
fe 4 




PS 1059 
.B22 114 
1887 




^' 



Copyright. 1S76. 1)y Gkorqe M. Bakbb. 
I THE SELDAKTE CRAZE. — One Act. Price, 25 cts. 
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NEW rLAYSi TITANIA.-A Fairy Play for Children, in two acts. Prire, 25 cts. 
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\ 



^nce. 25 cts 



MESSMATES 



a^ T>RAMA IN Three <tAcTs 



BY 

GEORGE M. BAKER 



4 






FEB 2^i|;^/ 



-i 



BOSTON: 






Copyright, 1887, 
By GEORGE M. BAKER. 

Ai7 rights reserved. 

Messmates. 



RAND 6.VERY COMPANT, 

BLBOTROTYPERS AND PRINTW18, 

BOSTON. 



CHARACTERS. 



Alvah Morgan, a speculator. 

Richard Carter, owner of the " Seabright." 

Nat. Taylor, captain of the " Seabright." 

Teddy Morgan, a runaway. 

Wolf, a stowaway. 

Crumbs, the steward. 

Grace Morgan, Alvah's daughter. 

Polly Taylor, the captain's pet. 

Arabella Caraway, Alvah's sister. 

Phillis, Grace's maid. 



COSTUMES. 



Alvak. Age fifty. Gray crop wig, short side whiskers, blue yachting 
suit, — except on last entrance in second act, when he should appear in 
trousers and shirt only, collar loose, the appearance of having hastily 
arisen from bed. 

Captain. Age fifty. Bald gray wig, full beard running from ear to ear 
around the throat, chin and lip bare, face ruddy and good-natured ; blue 
yachting coat with brass buttons ; cap, blue trousers, blue shirt. In first 
act no kerchief, in others black kerchief and waistcoat. 

Richard. Red hair, mustache and chin-beard, eye-glasses ; blue yacht- 
ing suit, rather natty in appearance ; rapid in speech and gesture, but 
very cool. 

Teddy. Act I. Curly hair, sailor shirt with blue collar, white sailor 
trousers, black kerchief, naval cap with " Seabright " in gilt letters on the 
front. Acts II. and III. Change to blue shirt and trousers. 

Wolf. Act I. Blue trousers, white sailor shirt with torn sleeve 
showing bare right arm ; leathern belt ; red handkerchief or red cap on 
head. Acts II. and III. Blue sailor trousers and shirt, black necker- 
chief, gray wig, mustache and side whiskers all one piece, chin smooth. 

Crumbs. White trousers, jacket, and apron; white naval cap with 
" Seabright" in gilt letters ; darky face and wig. 

Grace. Act I. Pretty yachting suit. Act II. Dark dress, with white 
collar, cuffs, apron, and nurse's cap. Act III. Pretty summer suit, suit- 
able for the tropical change of climate. 

Polly. Yachting suit with dark straw hat, " Seabright " in gilt letters. 
In Act II., for first entrance, pea-jacket, and imitation in black glazed 
cloth of a " sou'wester " hat. Act III. Same as first. 

Arabella. Act I. Rather plump figure, in summer costume, to suit 
age, about forty ; not bad looking. In Act III. drop plumpness, but wear 
same costume. A slightly gray curly wig, parted on side, or corkscrew 
curls and red wig, at the pleasure of the performer. 



COSTUMES. 

Phillis. Bright mulatto girl, with the faintest tinge of color, gold hoop 
earrings, neat and tasty dress ; or, a coal-black negress, to suit the pleasure 
of the performer, — the author's preference being for the former. In the 
latter case, give the part the dialect used by " Crumbs." 

Notes. 

Act I. Wolf makes his first appearance from a " transom." This is a 
long box, and may interfere with the central entrance, which should be 
wide. Instead, a trap-door in c. of stage will serve, and where it is prac- 
ticable is much to be preferred, as a stowaway would be likely to secrete 
himself in the hold. Where both are in the way, or not convenient, use 
the L. u. E. Another method is to have a " locker " or cupboard l. of c. 

Act II. Wolf and Teddy should have change of costume for the 
rescue, both to appear in trousers and shirt only. These should be dupli- 
cated, and the suit worn on their re-appearance should be '' dripping " in 
appearance, a spangling of isinglass helping the illusion. 

In this act, the "roaring of the gale," the "wind whistling through the 
rigging," and the motion of the vessel will all add interest to the storm- 
scene. The " roaring " and " whistling " are produced by placing a hum- 
ming-top on the spindle of a spinning-wheel ; slow and rapid revolu- 
tions will produce imitations of whistling and roaring in a wonderful 
manner. The "motion" may be made imaginary by the rolling and 
pitching of the characters. 



MESSMATES. 
A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, 



ACT I. — OUTWARD BOUND. 

The action of the three acts is in the cabin of the yacht 
" Seabright." 

Scene. — c, in flat, the companion-way, with two steps. 
From the upper step, entrances R. and L. Back of the 
steps a marine picture on the wall, brass hand-rails R. 
and L. of steps. Portieres over companion-way ; L. of 
companion-way, ae:ainst flat, practicable transom covered 
with red. Two doors on R., two on L., leading to state- 
rooms, indicated as R. i and r. 2, L. i and l. 2, No. i ftearest 
audience. Entrances R a?td l., frst e. ; swinging-laitips 
r. and L. on flat. Table R., back, covered with a white cloth, 
to show red cloth when removed. On table, breakfast dishes, 
a half cut bone of ham, a plate of bread, easy chair R. of 
table; L., halfway up stage, small table with chair beside 
it, red cover on table. Crumbs discovered back of table 
R.', picking up dishes and placing them on waiter. Phil- 
Lis dusting at table l. Raise curtain with nautical music 
« ^ Life on the Ocean Wave^' or any familiar air. 

Crumbs {flourishing a pitcher). O Miss Phillis, Miss 
Phillis ! it's jes' what ole Parson Johnson said, " Dis am a 
hollow world." " Man cometh up like de sparrargrass, and 
he goeth out like de hoppergrass." 

" Life 'tis a strife, 'tis a bubble, 'tis a dream ; 
And man he am a little boat a-fioatin' down dc stream." 

And de fust ting he knows he strikes a snag, and dat leetle 
boat am upsot, — and de man, de man, oh, whar am he?" 
Phillis. Why, don't you know, Mr. Crumbs ? Jes' now 



6 MESSMATES. 

he's pickin' up dishes in the cabin of the " Seabright," and 
the snag that upset his little boat was jes' a little mite of a 
mitten. 

Crumbs. Oh ! dis am a whale ob tears, a honeycomb ob 
bones. 

Phillis. Honey! La, Mister Crumbs, you mean cata- 
comb ? 

Crumbs. O Sofy Sassafras ! de idol of dis aching heart, de 
girl I lef behind me ! 

Phillis. What, Sophie ! Is this the cause of all your 
groaning ? 

Crumbs. Ob course. Wa'n't we to be married las' night ? 
Wa'n't de isters cooked, and de ice-cream friz, and de parson 
dar, when de cap'n bust in like a cyclorama, and ordered me 
aboard in half an hour, case we were off in an hour ? Didn't 
de meeting break up in disgust ? didn't de bride tar her har ? 
didn't ole Sassafras lif ' his boot ? and didn't de parson howl 
for his fee .-* 

Phillis. And within two hours you, a man I had never 
seen before, told me I was the object of your adoration, and 
offered me your heart and hand. 

Crumbs. Dat's so. And you refused de balm ob conso- 
lation axed for, — refused de faithful heart. 

Phillis. That's forgette'n the "girl he left behind," in an 
hour. Mr. Crumbs, I'm afraid your heart and your face are 
of the same complexion, very black, and neither will suit me. 

Crumbs. Well, you jes' wait until you find dar's no 
chowder for — for de secon' table, dat de fishballs an' de 
griddles am missin' when you get in to breakfas', dat dar's 
no graby for de roas' beef, dat de turkey hab taken to hisself 
wings and flowed away, den — den tink ob me. Ef I can't 
touch your heart any oder way, I'll try what poor fare will do. 

Phillis. That would be mean. 

Crumbs. All's fair in lub. 

Phillis. Oh, you don't frighten me ! I've only to com- 
plain to my lady's father, Mr. Morgan. 

Crumbs (comes down). Dat ole man ! Phillis, dar's some- 
thin' wicked about him. I was in de cabin here las' night, 
ebery body turned in, when dat ole man come creepin' out ob 
his stateroom. Seemed to be walkin' in his sleep. He jes' 
stood an' wrung his hands and groaned, — how he did groan ! 
{Imitates as he speaks) 



MESSMATES. 7 

Phillis. Worse than you did when your little boat was 
upset ? 

Crumbs. Don't fool. He jes' wrung his hands and groaned, 
and muttered, " I've murdered him ! Why did he swim after 
the boat ? How did he know I hab his gold ? he swam — he 
swam — he swam, — and then he caught hold of de boat." 
De ole man was doin' it all, Phillis, swimmin' jes' so, and 
den he said, " I struck him wid de oar, and down he sunk, 
down, down, down; " an' den de ole man groaned some more, 
an' wrung his hands some more, an' crept off to his bunk. 
I tell you, Phillis, somethin' drefful gwine to happen, you'd 
better get somefin' to chng to when de trouble begins. You'd 
better take me afore I make any oder engagement. 

Phillis. Yes, to the next girl you meet; think I'll try 
the poor fare first. You say you saw Mr. Morgan last night? 

Crumbs. Sartain sure. 

Phillis. He must have been dreaming. 

Crumbs. He's got somethin' on his mind ; I've got a fel- 
low feelin' for him, I know what it is to suffer; an' if you had 
any feelin' for a fellow who's got a fellow feelin' for de ole 
man — 

Phillis. Oh, don't bother! I'm not in the market for 
marrying. If I were, I should not be satisfied with Crumbs. 
{ExU L.) 

Crumbs {goes back to table). Nice girl dat Phillis; but 
proud and haughty. Nebber mind, when we get out to sea 
she'll be glad to hab somethin' to lean to, and den dis smitten 
bosom will be in demand. ( With waiter piled with dishes^ 
exit R. Jirst entrance.^ {Mtisic pianissimo. The cover of 
locker is lifted^ and Wolf appears looking cautiously about.) 

Wolf {stepping out). Ah, the coast is clear, at last ! Ten 
mortal hours I've been cramped in that locker {stretches 
himself). Oh, it's glorious to feel once more the free air, to 
stretch my aching limbs. {Looks up companion-way.) She's 
under way: I can hear the ripple of the water as her sharp 
bow cleaves the waves. A snug craft this. We're off, and 
the stowaway undiscovered. What is my next move ? lean- 
not live in that box. {Shivers.) I need food : I'm as hungry as 
a wolf. {Sees table.) Ah, the lovesick steward has not quite 
cleared the table ; and, as I have a fellow feeling for unhappy 
lovers, I'll finish the job for him. ( Takes ham andbreadfrom 
plate and platter) I hate to steal ; let hunger bear the theft, 



8 MESSMATES. 

I'll be its unwilling accomplice. {Places food in locker >i Off 
for Bermuda. It's a long trip for a yacht, but she's a beauti- 
ful sea-boat. Ah, visitors. Into your nest, you wolf. {Gets 
into locker^ and stands with ha?td on lid, listening.^ 
{Sofig outside.) 

" A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 

And a wind that follows fast, 
And fills the wide and rustling sail, 

And bends the gallant mast, 
And bends the gallant mast, my boys, 

Till like an eagle free, 
Away our good ship flies, and leaves 

Columbia on our lea," etc. 

{During the song Teddy appears in companion-way, polish- 
ing the hand-rails. Just as it coficludes, he steps into 
cabin, and at the same /noment Wolf sinks into locker, 
closing the lid.) 

Teddy. So this is the cabin, the sacred retreat deck- 
hands are forbidden to enter. {Sits on locker.) Jolly place, 
of course, since every thing about is of the same order. 
Oh, it's just gorgeous ! no more study, no more recitations, 
but three weeks of solid fun on the jolly old wet ocean with 
those tarry chaps of the fo'castle, whose voices are never so 
musical as when on the high sea. I'm afraid my good old 
dad will hardly agree with me when he finds I have slipped 
my cable and left Harvard to mourn my loss. What's the 
odds '^. I've learned, in my short nautical experience, that 
" there's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft to take care 
of the life of poor Jack; " so I'll trust to luck for the recon- 
ciliation which always comes to runaways who seek a life on 
the ocean wave, and the famous calf that is forever fattening 
for the prodigal's return. {Sings.) 

" A wet sheet and a flowing sea." 

{Enter Crumbs, r. i e.) 

Crumbs. Avast dar. (Teddy rises.) Do you take dis 
place for a conserbatory ob music .'' Ef de cap'n Avants to 
get up a consort he 7nay send for you. What you doin' into 
de cabin anyway 1 

Teddy. I was sent to polish the hand-rails. 

Crumbs {at table). Polish hand-rails ? well, I guess not. 
Whar's de ham .? Whar's de bread 1 Ef you've done pol- 
ishing dat ham-bone, I'll take it. 



MESSMATES. 9 

Teddy. I've touched nothing. 

Crumbs. Won't do, sailor man, won't do. I don't keer 
if a man wants to make a hog of hisself filling up wid ham, 
but when he bones ham, common politeness should teach 
him to bring back de bone ob de ham he boned. 

Teddy. Shut up. Do you want to bring the whole ship's 
crew down here ? 

Crumbs. Well, you jes bring back dat ham-bone, dat's 
all I ax ob you. (Exz^ with platter and plate R. r e.) 

Teddy. Our ebony steward seems to require a bit of 
polishing himself. 

{Song outside, Polly.) 

" My Bonnie lies over the ocean, 
My Bonnie lies over the sea ; 
My Bonnie lies over the ocean, 
Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me." 

{Appears in cojnpanion-way.) 
" Bring back, bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me," etc. 

Teddy. The captain's jolly little daughter. 

Polly {ott stage). Anybody stirring ? 

Teddy. No one but me: I'm at your service. Steward 
just now wanted me to bring back his bone. I couldn't do 
it, you know, but I might bring back your Bonnie for you if 
you'd tell me where to look for her. 

Polly. Ha, ha! Funny, ain't you? You're the green 
hand. 

Teddy. The green hand ? 

Polly. Who shipped as an able seaman. The moment 
I clapped my weather-eye on you — 

Teddy. Beg pardon, which is your weather-eye ,'' 

Polly. Ha, ha ! an able seaman you ! I don't believe 
you know the main hatch from the gaff topsail. 

Teddy. Oh, yes ; I do. The gaff topsail is the what- 
you-may-call-it abaft the fore peak, and the main hatch, the 
main hatch — 

Polly. Well, the main hatch — 

Teddy. Is where they keep the chickens, of course. 

Polly. Ha, ha, ha ! you an able seaman ! You are an 
impostor. 

Teddy. And you the jolliest little sailor that ever climbed 



lO MESSMATES. 

the foretop bobstay, or spliced the main brace in short stays. 
How's that for nautics ? 

Polly. Worse and worse : you are an impostor. 

Teddy. With tears in my eyes I confess it. 

Polly. Then, why are you here ? 

Teddy. On a wager. 

Polly. A wager ? Haven't I seen you at Cambridge ? 

Teddy. Shouldn't wonder; I was at Harvard. We're 
always on exhibition. Jolly place, Harvard. 

Polly. I think I've noticed you passing my window. 

Teddy. Have you, though ? Deuced kind of you to re- 
member it. The fellows would be green with envy if they 
knew it. 

Polly. Well, the wager ? 

Teddy. I made a wager with Cy Goodwin. Cy's a 
soph : I'm a fresh, you see. 

Polly. I see. 

Teddy. Well, I made a wager with Cy, that I'd get a 
formal introduction to you before he could ; and yesterday 
I found out you were going on this cruise. Cy found it out 
too; and, as he's a good yachtsman, he shipped for the 
cruise. I couldn't let him get ahead of me in that way, so 
I shipped too. 

Polly. For the purpose of getting an introduction to 
me. That was cool. 

Teddy. Coolness is the one state of the collegiate ther- 
mometer which the Harvard man diligently freezes to. 

Polly. And how do you propose to win your wager ? 

Teddy. If you'll kindly name some friend of yours on 
board. 

Polly. Oh, certainly ; there's my father, the captain. 

Teddy. Capital idea. I'll ask him. 

Polly. Do. Only let me know when the trouble begins. 

Teddy. Trouble ? 

Polly. Yes ; for when a common sailor asks such a favor 
of his captain, he's likely to be strung up to the mainmast, 
keel-hauled, or set adrift in a jolly-boat. 

Teddy. Which wouldn't be jolly at all. We'll pass the 
captain. 

Polly. Then there's Mr. Alvah Morgan. 

Teddy {aside). Great Scott ! my dad. 

Polly. 



MESSMATES. II 

Teddy {aside). My sister — 

Polly. Mrs. Arabella Caraway — 

Teddy. My aunt. — Do you mean to say those people are 
on board .^ ^ 

Polly. They are. Do you know them ? 

Teddy. Oh, no {aside) ! I must disown the whole lot. 

Polly. You might ask them. By the way, what is vour 
name : ^ 

Teddy. Tom Tucker. 

Polly. I don't believe it. 

Teddy. Miss Taylor ! on the word of a fresh — 

Polly. A fresh who is trying to pass himself off for an 
old salt. If you dare to ask anybody, I'll have you put in 
irons for the rest of the voyage. There is a wide difference 
between the cabin and the fo'castle, the captain's daughter 
and a common sailor. Keep your distance. {Exit c, singing.) 
" Bring back, bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me." 

Teddy {Watches her off. Enter Crumbs, takes off the 
table-cloth while she is singing, then as her voice dies away 
tn the distance sings, watching Teddy r. i e.) 

"Bring back, bring back, bring back dat ham-bone to me, to me." 
(Teddy shies his cap at him; exit Crumbs repeatinz.) 
^ Teddy {picking up cap). The situation is getting decidedly 
mterestmg; I've run away into the bosom of my family. 
They must have come on board after dark. Here's a pretty 
how d'ye do. Well, impudence, befriend me. 

{Enter Mrs. Ckka^nay from stateroom i r.) 
Arabella. My good man, have you seen a ^reen — Good 
from?" ' ^^^^^' '^^^^^ Morgan, where did you drop 

'^f.^^^ (^f f S^^ff 'voice, hitching his trousers). Shiver 
my imbers ! bang my top-lights, and keel-haul me, marm. 
You ve spoke the wrong ship. 

Arabella. Good gracious, what a likeness ' 

Teddy Don't call me any landlubberly names ; I'm Tom 
1 ucker of the arboard watch ahoy, a rattlin' reefer, a double- 
decker, pickled m salt and soused in brine. 

Captain {outside). Below there, Tom Tucker, ahoy ! On 
deck, lively, lad, lively. ^ 

Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! — My sarvice to you, marm, I'm piped 



12 MESSMATES. 

to quarters ; and when duty calls, Tom Tucker is on deck, 
larboard, starboard, and amidships. {Exit 7ip companion- 
way, sifiging.) 

" A wet sheet and a flowing sea." 

Arabella. Can I believe my own eyes .'' our Ted's nose, 
the same mouth, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Tom 
Tucker, indeed ! as if I shouldn't know my own nephew ! 
{Enter Grace from stateroom i L.) 

Grace. Well, aunt, how comes on the unpacking ? 

Arabella. O Grace, I've had such a turn ! There's a 
sea-monster on board this ship who's the image of our Teddy. 

Grace. A sea-monster! not very complimentary to 
Teddy. 

Arabella. I believe it's the boy himself; and he's a 
rattlin' reefer, and a double-decker, and he's going to shiver 
all the timbers in the ship. 

Grace. Teddy is safe in college, aunt. 

Arabella. I'll believe it when I see him there. Now 
you watch these sailors, especially one Tom Tucker, who's 
pickled in salt and soused in brine. If he ain't Ted, I'm 
crazy. 

Grace. Only a resemblance. Aunt, Teddy is deep in 
his studies ; I should as soon think of meeting Horace Gay- 
lord here as brother Ted. Where's father ? 

Arabella. I heard him moving in his stateroom just 
now, and there, there's mine in such a mess. It will take 
me a week to get to rights. {Exit to stateroom R. i.) 

Grace {sits at table l.). This hasty departure, this sudden 
fancy for a trip to Bermuda; this yacht, the property of 
Richard Carter! No farewell message to Horace Gaylord: 
what will he think of me ? I have long suspected that my 
father did not favor the man I love ; but so kind and indul- 
gent has he always been, I never looked for any strong 
opposition. 

{Enter Morgan from stateroom r. 2.) 

Morgan. Ah, Grace ! come on deck. We are running 
swiftly out of port, and you have only time for a parting 
glance at the home we leave behind. 

Grace. But why leave it ? Why are w^e going ? 

Morgan. For your health, my girl. You have not been 
looking well of late ; and when Richard Carter proposed this 



MESSMATES. 1 3 

trip in his beautiful yacht, I eagerly seized the opportunity 
to benefit you. 

Grace. But why was I forbidden to communicate our 
departure to Horace Gaylord ? Why this flitting in the night ? 
Why this mystery ? 

Morgan. It's more romantic. 

Grace {rising), 'Tis a cruel wrong to an honorable man 
who loves me, 'tis an attempt to favor the advances of another 
whom I can never accept. 

Morgan. Robert Carter is an honest man, who has ac- 
quired wealth — 

Grace. Ah, wealth! that is the loadstone that attracts 
worldly fathers. The happiness of their children is a sec- 
ondary consideration. 

Morgan. You are bitter. Is it a crime to desire to see 
my daughter well settled in life ? 

Grace. You are not a poor man ; your wealth will abun- 
dantly portion both Teddy and me. 

Morgan. My wealth may vanish in a single day. Specu- 
lation, by which I win and lose, is a mocking devil who lures 
men to destruction over golden-paved roads, whose beds are 
honeycombed with pitfalls. If you are wise you will listen 
to Richard Carter, and let this struggling lover go. 

Grace. Richard Carter's millions do not tempt me; I 
have given my heart to the man who struggles, in whom 
I have faith, that, true as steel, he will cut his way through 
all obstacles, and win fame and fortune. 

Morgan. I will never give my consent. 

Grace. I think you will in time. 

Morgan. No, no ! Far back in the record of my past 
life there is an entry I would gladly erase, one bitter expe- 
rience that haunts my sleep. Something in his face recalls it. 
His voice makes me shudder, the touch of his hand chills 
me. We must put him out of our lives. 

Grace. Father! 

Morgan. You cannot understand this. 'Tis not neces- 
sary that you should. 'Tis my wish you should forget 
him. 

Grace. And you thought that separation would serve 
your purpose. Do not deceive yourself. I love him with all 
my heart. You are too good to make my life unhappy, too 
just to wrong him, so I will wait for your better nature to do 



14 MESSMATES. 

him justice ; if that fails, I have still my dear dead mother's 
advice to comfort me. 

Morgan. What was that ? 

Grace. With her soft hand stroking my hair, and her 
dear eyes full of love and tenderness looking into mine, she 
said, *' When you have gained a good man's love, cherish it, 
defend it; 'tis a woman's refuge in every trouble." And she 
loved you, father. 

Morgan. Heaven knows she did. {Aside.) And she 
knew my story. 

Captain {outside). Moping in the cabin, with this glo- 
rious breeze on deck ? 

{Enter Captain, c.) 

Captain. How's this, how's this ? We've cleared the 
point, set every inch of canvas ; and the " Seabright" is just 
sHding through the water like the duck she is, and such a 
beauty ! Man and boy I've sailed the sea for thirty years, 
and never saw her equal. Ah, you rich chaps may well be 
envied by the less fortunate, when money can set such skim- 
mers of the sea afloat. Come, come on deck: you are losing 
a grand sight. 

Arabella {outside). Oh, save me, save me! {E?tters 
from R., her face and hair wet, her arms moving as in the 
act of swimming.) Stop the ship! Stop the ship, I'm 
drowning ! The water's pouring into my stateroom ! Oh, 
save my trunk ! 

Captain. You've been tampering with the port-hole. Just 
like a woman. 

{Exit into stateroom, R. i.) 

Arabella. O Alvah, why did you drag me from home ? 
Do you want to see me drown before your eyes ? Have I 
lived forty — thirty years to meet a watery grave ? Why 
don't somebody get out the lifeboat ? We're all going to the 
bottom. {Swims to companion-way, and is going up.) 

Morgan {bringing her back). Tut, tut, there's no danger. 
{Enter Captain, r. i.) 

Captain. Not a bit. You opened the port as she was 
heeling to starboard, and a shower-bath was the natural 
consequence. 

Arabella. What! ain't we sinking? 

Captain. Bless you ! no, my ships never sink. 

Arabella. Then I'll go back and hang up my wardrobe 



MESSMATES. 1 5 

to dr}', but do keep her up straight, Captain. This heeh'ng 
■ is awful sickening. {Exit R. i.) 

Morgan. So, Captain, you're one of the luckies. Never 
lost a ship t 

Captain. Never ; and only wrecked once. 

Morgan. When was that. Captain.^ 

Captain. Long ago, a matter of eighteen years. We 
were running down from Melbourne to San Francisco, in 
the " Vulture.'' 

Morgan {agitated) The " Vulture " .? 

Captain. One of the " Vultures." There are many afloat, 
but she, poor old gal, went to the bottom. I was afore the 
mast, and among my messmates was Jack Ober. 

Morgan {agitated). Ah, the old name ! 

Captain. Ah, poor old Jack ! he turned out a bad lot, but 
we were cronies then. I remember sitting on the fo'castle 
rail with him many a moonlight night, spinning yarns of 
boyhood days. Poor old Jack ! we were that fond of each 
other that we tattooed on our breasts, he on mine, I on his, 
the picture of a vulture — like this. {Throws back his shirt, 
showing picture. Morgan hastily fumbles with his as if to 
conceal something) We were ten days out when, in the 
middle watch, a cyclone struck us. Such a blow ! The con- 
fusion was awful. The sea roaring over the ship, and bang- 
ing against her sides, with concussions that made you think 
of the breaking-up of the world, the gale howling through 
the rigging like forty locomotive whistles in full blast, the 
night black as ink, the captain and mate howling at the 
top of their voices, and the ship on her beam-ends, and 
leaking like a sieve ! We cut the boats adrift, and sought 
safety in that boiling caldron. There was one gold-digger, 
Martin Secor, who was returning with his little boy and a 
belt full of gold. With this man and the little chap. Jack 
and I left the ship in a cockle-shell of a boat. It was a 
tough fight for life, but we won. When the storm Jbroke we 
found ourselves abreast a small island, where we made a 
landing. The little chap was nearly dead, but with careful 
nursing we brought him round ; and for three days we strug- 
gled for life on the few roots we dug from the soil. The 
father grew wild with anxiety for his boy : he would run 
along the shore, waving his money-belt heavy with gold, 
shouting for help, and offering " gold, gold, for bread." On 



16 MESSMATES. 

the fourth morning I awoke to find the boat, Martin Secor, 
and my messmate Jack, gone. I was alone with the boy. 

Morgan. The father had deserted his child. 

Captain. Do you believe that.^ Would any thing tempt 
me to desert my little Polly.? Would any thing tempt you to 
desert your daughter? No, that's not the sort of timber 
that daddies are made of. It was a crafty trick of Jack 
Ober's. My messmate, whom I would have trusted with my 
life, had murdered the father, and escaped with the gold. 

Morgan {agitated). How did you learn this.? 

Captain. I guessed it. I know nothing of the fate of 
the father: I only know he loved his boy, and that Jack Ober 
deserted me, his messmate. Put this and that together, and 
think what you please. I have never seen Jack since; but 
justice is perfect, and somewhere in this world or the next 
we shall meet again, — for reckoning. 

Grace. And the boy .? 

Captain. That day we were taken off by a passing vessel. 
I fell into a raging fever, and for weeks was dead to thought 
and action. When I recovered I was in a hospital in San 
Francisco, and the boy was gone on the ship that rescued 
us. I could never find him. 

Grace. Poor fellow ! 

Carter {outside). Captain Taylor ahoy ! ahoy ! ahoy ! 
{Appears coming down compajiio?i-way.) 

Grace. Mr. Carter! I will not meet him. {Exit, l. i.) 

Captain. Well, Mr. Carter, what's the matter .? 

Carter. Will you overhaul your reckoning, and inform 
me where we are } 

Captain. Three miles east of the Big Brewster. 

Carter. In deep water? 

Captain. Very deep water. 

Carter. Then if you will kindly order up a hammock, 
load one end with shot, sew me up in it, and consign me to 
the mighty deep, you will place me under obligations for the 
rest of my existence, which, under the circumstances, must 
necessarily be limited. 

Captain. What misfortune has befallen you ? 

Carter. The worst: I've met a brother. 

Captain. Ah, some long-lost relative ? 

Carter. No such good fortune. A brother of the 
"Antique and Venerable Order of Disgruntled Growlers," 



MESSMATES. 1/ 

Pacing the deck of my own gallant craft, I have been accosted 
by one of your tarriest of tars, who, placing his left hand be- 
hind his left ear, extends his right hand, and whispers " Divy." 
He was a Growler. 

Morgan. And you? 

Carter. Oh, I'm his brother fast enough. I'm a 
"Growler," — I've been Grand Custodian of the Candidates, 
Grand Inspector of the Gridiron, Grand Keeper of the Goats, 
Grand Chamberlain of the Chowder-Bowl, Great Grand Pan- 
jowdah, grand every thing. 

Captain. What is the object ? 

Carter {spouting, with upraised hand). " The uplifting of 
the order of society by bombastic explosion, and the rebuild- 
ing from its shattered fragments a nobler system, which shall 
extend to the remotest corners of the earth, and whose tow- 
ering battlements shall pierce the heavens." Bosh ! 

Morgan. Then, you don't believe in it. 

Carter. Not much. Once I was its most devoted sub- 
ject ; that was when I was a thirsty-throated son of the street- 
corners. Then I knelt before its bucket of vermilion-dyed 
liquid, typical of human gore, and swore to be a true Terrific 
Disgruntled Growler until those vampires, the Jay Goulds, 
the Vanderbilis, and all the aristocrats of we'alth, succumbed 
to our invincible war-cry, " Divy." 

Morgan. This was before your uncle died } 

Carter. Yes; when my venerable relative, commonly 
known as old miser Carter, shipped his cable, and sailed for 
a new harbor, he left to me, his only relative, a black trunk, 
packed with bonds of the X. Y. and Z. Railroad, stocks in 
the Don Quixote mine, and titles to rivers of oil. I hadn't 
the heart to growl, and no disposition to feel disgruntled, so 
I quietly shook the Antique Order; but the Antiques did not 
shake well. They wexe never such firm friends. They 
gathered about me with extended hands, and the Antique 
motto, " Divy," on their lips. I was invited to pour into their 
treasury my legacy. I did not accept. I was entreated to 
prove my principles. I quietly informed the special com- 
mittee that I did not intend to disturb my principals, but to 
hve upon my interests. Then they threatened me. Any 
brother had power to slay me at sight without grace; there 
was no escape but by compliance with the Antique rule, 
" Divy." I thought, when I sailed off in my own boat, I had 



iS MESSMATES. 

buried the past; but there rises before me a ghost in^ sailor 
trousers who salutes me with the old story, " Divy. _ ho, 
Captain, bring up your stoutest hammock, sew me up tight 
and let me slide; the waters will "divy" to receive me, and 
society will have one " Growler " less. ^ 

Captain. Oh, no! we can't spare either you or the 
shot. So come on deck, point out your "brother, and you 
shall hear no more from him. {Exit, companion-way.) _ 

Morgan. Ha! ha! Carter, your troubles are serious. 
A millionnaire in deadly peril. I see but one way of escape 
for you. 

Carter. One is enough, I'll take it. 
Morgan. You must marry, settle all your wealth upon 
vour wife. You will then be a poor man, and free. 1 he 
« Growlers " cannot make war upon a woman. Look about 
vou; we've good material here. There's the captains 
daughter, pretty, but young; my sister, well, a little over the 
line" and my daughter, she might be induced to take pity on 
a martyr. Ha! ha! ha! ha! look about you, Carter, look 

about you. {Exit C-) , , . ,i ,„ ^i.^ 

Carter. Egad, the old gentleman is worse than the 

"brothers; " they would be satisfied with a fair division he 

would /r^e me of the whole. It's not the first time he has 

hinted that his daughter might be had for the asking Now s 

my chance; she's beautiful and accomphshed, and would 

make my ducats dance a merry measure. 

{Enter Crumbs, r. i e.) 

Crumbs {creeping towards Carter with his finger on his 

lips). H'sh ! . u 

Carter. What's the matter with you ? 

Crumbs. Are we alone ? 

Carter. Evidently. . • /^ 

Crumbs. Sh ! ( Puts left hand behind ear, extends right, 
and whispers hoarsely.) " Divy." 

Carter. Another, and a black one ! 

Crumbs. Sh ! {Aside) Dis chile don' lose any chances. 
{Aloud.) Sh! {Creeps back and off v..) , , , , 

Carter. " Oh for a lodge ! " oh, bother the lodge ! 

{Etiter Grace, l.) , 

Grace. If I could only get this letter into the pilot s 
hands without my father's knowledge. Ah Mr. Carter 

Carter. Miss Morgan, when an individual, neithei hand- 



MESSMATES. 1 9 

some in person nor agreeable in manner, but burdened with 
riches, finds himself irresistibly attracted to a lady who is 
quite the opposite, and has her father's sanction, what course 
should he pursue ? 

Grace {aside). The farce begins. {Aloud.) I hardly 
feel competent to give advice in such a case ; but were you 
the individual and I the lady, I would have you say, " Madam, 
you are my guest, and during my stay you shall be treated 
with all respect." 

Carter. You shall be treated as a queen. Can you 
doubt it ? 

Grace. Then I should say, " I have been hurried from 
my home, leaving behind one whom I dearly love." 

Carter. Ah ! believe me, I did not know of this. 

Grace. One to whom I am engaged, who is to me the 
noblest of men; I have left him with no token, no — oh, 
Mr. Carter ! I am in sore distress, I want a friend, a 
brother ! 

Carter. A — a br — br — brother. {Aside.) Can she 
be a " Growler " ? 

Grace. Here is a note I have written. If it could be 
placed in the hands of the pilot. 

Carter {takes letter). It shall be. {Reads address.) 
"Horace Gaylord," the young chap I met at your house } 

Grace. The same. 

Carter. Why, he's the prince of good fellows. A per- 
fect smooth-faced brick. You have asked me to be a brother. 
I thought I hated that word, but you have given it a new 
sound, and I'll serve you with my whole heart. 

Grace. Oh, thank you ! you are a true knight cut from 
the antique. 

Carter {aside). I wish I was cut from them. {Aloud.) 
I have no time to lose, the pilot must be leaving the yacht. 
For you and for your love command me, — heart, soul, and 
uncle Carter's money. {Aside.) So closes one of Alvah 
Morgan's three ways of escape. {Exit c.) 

Grace. I think I have thwarted my father's matrimonial 
scheme in that direction. 

(£"«/^r Arabella, r. i.) 

Arabella. Come, Grace, help me on deck ; I shall stifle 
in this place. Of all the outrageous pranks your father has 
cut up, this beats all. Every roll of the ship sets my heart 



20 MESSMATES. 

a-palpitating, every pitch sends me on my knees ; IVe 
bumped my head, rasped my knees, and lost my temper. 

Grace. Oh, you will make an excellent sailor, aunt, and 
learn to love the water. 

Arabella. I always did hate it ; and I know I shall be 
drowned. . 

Grace. Come on deck, and all your fears will vanish. 

Arabella. Hold me tight. If I get another fall. Til 
crawl into my berth, and never get out again. 

(Grace takes her ann, and they go up companion-way^ 

Arabella. Oh, how her timbers do shiver ! Poor thing ! 
{Exeunt c.) 

(Wolf staggers from locker.) 

Wolf. Oh, my head ! my head ! I'd rather face the foul 
fiend, or throw myself into the sea, than endure another 
hour's torture in that trap. We must be fairly out to sea. 
{Goes to co7npanion-way, and listens.) No, I hear the pilot's 
voice still' What's to be done? If I am found, they will 
send me ashore with the pilot. Ah, not that, not that ! The 
hungry wolf in his hiding-place has sharp ears, and your 
secrets, my masters, are in his keeping. As you deal with 
him, so shall it be with you, — justice for justice. Ah, some 
one comes; I cannot go back ; I will seek safety elsewhere, 
and trust to chance. {Exit into state room r. i. Grace 
and Arabella return.) 

Arabella {speaking as she descends). It's no use, Grace ; 
that last tumble just upset me. I thought I was going 
straight to David Jones's lockup. 

Grace. Oh, you promise to become a first-rate sailor. 

Arabella. I'm going straight to bed, and stay there. 
{Exit R. I.) 

Grace. I saw the pilot take the letter. 

Arabella {sc'reams). A man ! a man ! {Enters) O 
Grace, there's a great horrid sailor under my bunk. 

Grace. Nonsense, aunt. 

Arabella. I saw him. Help ! help ! help ! 
{Enter Carter, c.) 

Carter. What's wrong ? 

Arabella. A man in my room. A great, horrid, live 
man ! 

Carter. Ah! I'll have him out. {Exit r. i.) Ah, you 
rascal ! 



MESSMATES. 21 

Wolf {inside). Let go my throat. 

Carter. Come out, come out. 

Wolf. Off, off, I say ! 
{Enter Wolf and Carter, struggling. Carter throws 
him down c, and stands over him. 

Carter. Now, who are you ? 

Wolf. Well, call me Wolf. 

Carter. What do you want here ? 

Wolf {raising himself, and extending his hand) " Divy." 

Carter. Confound it ! (Goes R.) The sea is full of 
them. (Wolf rises and stands l. Enter Captain, c.) 

Captain. Ah, a stowaway ! we'll make short work of you, 
my man. On deck, and into the pilot-boat, quick. {Enter 
Morgan, c. Starts at sight of Wolf. Goes r. Grace 
goes to him, and talks with him. Arabella sits in chair L.) 

Carter. That's right, captain ; put him ashore. 

Captain. Come on deck, my man. 

Wolf. Say, Captain, don't be hard on a poor chap. My 
ship's in Bermuda. I'll work my passage, only give me a 
chance. 

Carter. Put him ashore. 

Wolf {reproachfully^. Brother ! 

Carter. Oh, bother ! 

Captain. You must go. 

Wolf {goes up c. and turns. C apt Aiti goes l.). You're 
rough on an old salt ; but it's the way of the ocean. You 
wouldn't have found me here if I hadn't been cheated by 
sailors. I had gold, heaps and heaps, but I was robbed, — 
robbed by messmates, — robbed of my hard-won gold, robbed 
of my boy. 

Captain. Robbed.^ When? Where? 

Wolf. In the Pacific, eighteen years ago. 

/ loRGAN. Ah ! I thought I knew that face. 

Wolf {fiercely). You knew it ? 

Morgan. No, no, I am mistaken. 

Captain. Wrecked and robbed in the Pacific! What 
ship, messmate ? 

Wolf. The " Vulture." 

Captain. The " Vulture." Yourname? 

Wolf. Oh, I've a dozen. 'Tis Wolf here ; 'twas Mar- 
tin Secor there. 

Morgan. 'Tis he. {Sinks into chair.) 



I 



22 MESSMATES. 

Captain. Martin Secor ! 
Carter. Put him ashore, captain. 

CARTER ■ I'layTes. I am the owner of this craft 

CAPxIfN. An^I her captain. 'Tis the law of the sea 

that the captain rules, and all obey, even the owner (G«. 

^r T'll not .^o back on an old messmate with whom 1 ve 

si^iled and1tf.^ed"V>^.to WOLF'S hand.) Martm Secor 

sails with us. 

Picture. 

llpTt?A^J^tt in'-Jha^rX^c. .m Her Hand on 
her shoulder. 



ACT II. — IN MID-OCEAN. 

Cabiti at night. Lamps lighted. Captain seated at table l. 
Morgan seated r. Crumbs standing c. 

Captain. So, you rascal, you've been putting Phillis on 
short allowance. 

Crumbs. What, I, cap'n, I ? Why, bress your soul, dat 
ar' gal am a regular hipperpotanuse, she'd debour a whale ef 
de oben was large 'nu£f to cook it. Her appetite am like de 
widow Cruise's oil, it nebber gibes out. Ef she could hab 
a free pass fro' de bill ob fare, dar'd be noffin' fur de fust 
table. Oh, she — she's — 

Captain. A nice girl, and shall have all she wants. So 
change your tactics, or we shall quarrel. 

Crumbs. Tactics ? don't know dat dish. Got hard tack — 

Captain. You know what I mean. Better fare and more 
of it. 

Crumbs. Say, cap'n, were you eber in lub? 

Captain. What's that to do with eating ? 

Crumbs. Oh, heaps. Ef you eber felt de tender passion, 
your experience must hab taught you dis, — de greater de 
strain on de digestive organs, de more de functions ob de 
heart am brought in play, causing de enlargement ob dat 
organ, an' de consequential outpouring ob affection. 

Captain. Nonsense ! 

Crumbs. Dat's so ; but don't de poet say — 

• " A leetle nonsense now and den 

Am relished by de wisest men." 

Fur instance, you take your bes' girl out fur de prominade ; 
de ebenin' am profishus, de air am sweet and balmy, the stars 
am shinin' lub, and you meander in bliss. But, jus' dar, de 
light from de ice-cream saloon obscures your path, de fair 
objec' ob your affection hangs heaby on your arm and feels 
faint. You take de hint and de girl in, and you order de 
frozen sweets, and she is happy wid dem, and forgets de 
odder sweet dat pays de bill. But if when you see dat light 

23 



24 MESSMATES. 

you shoot by, takin' de girl widoiit de hint, dar's no conflictin' 
element to disturb de harmony, an' you sabes your money. 

Captain. Are you in love with Phillis ? 

Crumbs. Oh, don't I lub dat girl ! 

Captain. You Turk ! you were to have been married on 
the night we sailed, to another. 

Crumbs. Why, dat was a week ago, cap'n. Don't de 
poet say — 

*"Tis absence makes de heart grow fonder" 

ob somebody else. I'se only jes' train' Phillis down to de 
lovin' point, dat's all. 

Captain. Now stop it, or I'll train you with a diet of 
rope's end. Now go. 

Crumbs. Ay, ay, sir ! {Goes r. aside.) Dat settles it. 
Thus ends my dream ob lub. {Exit R. i E.) 

Captain. The rascal ! I hate to be deceived. 

Morgan. And yet you trust this stov^away " Wolf." 

Captain, Martin Secor! Yes. 

Morgan. He's no more Martin Secor than I am. Just 
think of it, captain. The man was concealed somewhere about 
the cabin; he could easily have heard the story of the ship- 
wreck as you told it the clay we sailed. Nothing easier than 
to assume the character. He can tell the story glibly as far 
as you told it. Beyond that he knows nothing. 

Captain. Poor fellow, the thought of it makes him wild. 
You know that since that night he has been in his stateroom 
most of the time, sick. 

Morgan. In your stateroom, which you gave up to him. 
Why not send him among the men, where he belongs ? 

Captain. An old messmate ! I had not the heart to do 
it. Possibly you may be right in your suspicions ; but,^ some- 
how, I have faith in Martin Secor. 

Morgan. Depend upon it, he is an impostor. 

Captain {rising). He is doing no harm here. 

Morgan. He' is a dangerous character, and I wish we 
were well rid of him. Can't he be put ashore somewhere ? 

Captain. Possibly, but not while I command here. I 
have said he shall sail with us, and I always keep my word. 
{Exit c.) 

Morgan {7'ises, and cotnes r.). Blind confidence. The 
presence of that man terrifies me : if he is Martin Secor, he 



MESSMATES. 25 

should be at the bottom of the sea. (Wolf slips m from 
door \.. 2, and sits L., with arms folded.^ If he is not, he 
knows nothing that should cause alarm; and yet I fear him. 

Wolf. " Martin Secor sails with us." The captain is 
true blue. 

Morgan {turns). You here ? 

Wolf. Yes, to confound you; you, the man of wealth, 
tortured with doubts and fears. Ho ! ho ! your pleasure trip 
is not all sunshine and gentle breezes. Cabin walls are thin, 
and listeners may hear both good and evil reports. Stanch 
and true the man of the sea, bitter and fierce the man of. the 
world. Should I tell what I know — 

Morgan. What do you know ? 

Wolf. What I would not tell before that faithful soul 
who so dearly prized an unworthy messmate. With you 'tis 
different. You doubt me. {Rises.) Listen. When Jack 
Ober snatched my money-belt and took to the boat, I followed ; 
too late to seize him ere he had embarked, maddened with 
the loss of my money, I sprang into the sea, and swam after 
the boat. 'Twas a hard pull, but I overtook him, seized the 
gunwale, and would have lifted myself into the boat ; but with 
an oath the fiend raised an oar, and struck me. I lost my 
hold, and sunk. 

Morgan {aside). 'Tis he. {Sinks into chair K. Aloud) 
Well, go on. 

Wolf. No; I've said enough, you doubt me no longer. 
I live only to meet Jack Ober to bring him to bay. When 
that time comes, he shall confess his crime. Of my past I 
have nothing to be ashamed. You would breed trouble be- 
tween that heart of oak and the messmate he would befriend. 
You have an uneasy conscience that feeds on suspicion. 
Cover your record well, lest accident or design betray the 
secret of your life. Remember this, amid your doubts and 
fears : as truly as you are Alvah Morgan, I am Martin Secor 
of Melbourne. {Exit L. 2.) 

Morgan. And still I doubt. The blow was sure, the 
man sunk like lead, sunk to his death ; else why this sicken- 
ing feeling of guilt in spite of his story 1 {Rises.) Why, in 
the night, do I still wake in terror to see those pleading eyes 
fastened upon me .-^ This man knows too much. He'is in- 
deed dangerous. Oh, if I could but blot out that bloody 
record ? {Siiiks into chair.) 



26 MESSMATES. 

{Enter Grace l. i.) 

Grace. Why, father, are you ill ? 

Morgan. No, no ! I'm not so good a sailor as I was, and 
the motion of the vessel troubles me. 'Twill soon wear off. 

Grace. Have you been alone ? I thought I heard voices. 

Morgan {agitated). What did you hear ? 

Grace. Only a murmur. Who was with you } 

Morgan. Martin Secor. 

Grace. Who is Martin Secor, father ? 

Morgan. An old friend of the captain. 

Grace. Have I ever met him before? 

Morgan. Not to my knowledge. Why.' 

Grace. He acts so strangely. On deck he avoids me, 
when I speak to him, he looks out to sea, mutters, and turns 
away ; but often I've seen him standing leaning against the 
foremast, with his eyes fixed upon my face, and once as I 
passed him, in the companion-way, he seized my hand and 
pressed it to his lips. 

Morgan. Did he dare ? 

Grace. He acts very strangely. 

Morgan {tapping his forehead). Not quite right here. 
Avoid him. 

Grace. Poor old fellow. There's something on his mind 
that worries him. I hope he has committed no crime; that 
his conscience is — 

Morgan. How speeds Carter's suit? 

Grace. With Polly Taylor ? 

Morgan. With Polly! I don't understand. 

Grace. Mr. Carter told me you had pointed out to him 
three ways of escape from some deadly peril, the first of 
which was marriage with Polly. I think he is trying that. 

Morgan. The donkey ! Didn't I also tell him you might 
be had for the asking? 

Grace. Did you, indeed? how very kind! He knew 
better than to ask, after he found that I was engaged. 

Morgan. Who told him that? 

Grace. Ha, ha ! my father's child. 

Morgan. My father's child is a fool. 

Grace. Ha, ha ! father — 

Morgan. Don't be absurd. Richard Carter is a prize 
well worth any woman's winning. 

Grace. That's what I told Polly. 



MESSMATES. 2/ 

Morgan. Oh, bother Polly ! 

Grace. I think he will. She does not appear to be sen- 
sible of his intrinsic market value. 

Morgan. This cruise was arranged purposely to bring 
you together. 

Grace. Indeed ! I thought it was to benefit my health. 

Morgan. I know he admires you. Smile upon him, and 
you will bring him and his millions to your feet. 

Grace. And break another man's heart. Thank you, no. 
Don't worry about me, father; Mr. Carter and I are the best 
of friends, and quite agreed, that, to use his own words, 
Horace Gaylord is the prince of good fellows. 

Morgan. Prince of humbugs ! I've no patience with you. 
Not a penny of my money goes to enrich him, remember 
that. I'll leave it all to charity. 

Grace. As " charity begins at home," and I intend to 
keep him there, we shall share it together. Come, take me 
on deck. 

Morgan. The night is very dark, the wind fierce — 

Grace. And the sea running high ; no matter, the mighty 
deep in any form delights me, and it's so beneficial to my 
health. Ha, ha ! come along. {Takes his arm) 

Morgan. On deck, then. {Exeunt, c.) 

Crumbs {outside). Here you, here you ! 
Enter Phillis running from R. i e., with the leg of a tur- 
key in her hand, followed by Crumbs. He catches her by 

right wrist iii c. 

Stop thief, stop thief ! Why — why — it's Phillis. 

Phillis. Jes' so, Mr. Crumbs, it's Phillis. 

Crumbs {Releasing her). Wh — wh — what you doin' in de 
larder ? 

Phillis. Getting my supper. You don't suppose I was 
such a ninny as to submit to your low fare, do you ? No, in- 
deed, not for Phillis. While you have been trying to starve 
me into submission, I've been feasting on the enemy's stores. 
{Holds up tu7'key.) 

Crumbs. She boned de turkey, caught in de act. O 
Phillis ! I blush for you. 

Phillis. Don't strain your complexion on my account. 

Crumbs. Dat's whar all de provender disappeared, and 
I thought it was de rats. O Phillis, Phillis ! de perfidy ob 
woman am past finding out. 



28 MESSMATES. 

Phillis. That's so. You don't set the right sort of trap. 
I've been living on the fat of the land. 

Crumbs. Yas, indeed; an' growin' plumper an' plumper 
ebery day. An' I thought de starbin' cure was jes' gwine to 
do de business. 

Phillis. So your little scheme has failed. Eh, Mr. 
Crumbs ? 

Crumbs. O Phillis ! don't look at me in dat way. Dat's 
cruelty, — cruelty to animals. Oh ! ef I was only dat turkey- 
leg, dat I might press dose lips. {Approaches her.) 

Phillis. Stand off ! turkey is nice, but I don't hke goose. 

Crumbs. O Phillis! I'll forgib de rabagin' ob de larder, 
ef you'll only say you lub me. 

Phillis (7iibbling turkey). What, with my mouth full 
of turkey? that would not be proper. But I may say it 
some time. 

Crumbs. When's dat, Philhs ? 

Phillis. When the right man asks me. Good night, Mr. 
Crumbs. I don't love you, but I just adore your larder. 
{Exit, L. I.) 

Crumbs. Bar's anudder mitten flung, another turkey 
spoiled. I shall hab to put dat ar' bird onto de table wid one 
leg in de grabe, an' de cap'n will jes' raise a row. O Phillis ! 
she lubs not me but de larder. I'll jes' lock up dat hated* 
ribal tight, so she don't get no more comfort dar. {Exit 

R. I E.) 

{Enter c, Polly and Carter.) 

Polly. Nonsense, Mr. Carter ! 

Carter. It's the truth, Polly ; you are just the most fasci- 
nating nymph of the sea, I ever set eyes on. 

Polly. Then, because I am a nymph of the sea, as you 
are pleased to call me, I cannot leave my mother; I was 
born on the water. Dad and I have sailed together for ten 
years in storm and calm. I have climbed the rigging in 
the darkest night. I have taken an oar in the boat, when the 
men have sought in the wild storm to save life on shipwrecked 
vessels. I can take my trick at the wheel with the best of 
them. I know every rope and sail, every shift of the wind, 
every shade of the clouds. You ask me to leave all this to 
live in splendor, in carpeted halls and marble palaces, to be 
the wife of a nabob. 

Carter. That's just what I ask you. You shall do noth- 



MESSMATES. 29 

ing but dress in the finest, dance with the gayest, ride with 
the swiftest. All that money can buy shall be yours. We will 
share — no, that's only another name for " Divy," — all that 
I possess shall be yours. 

Polly. Thank you, not for me. Dad's good old heart 
would break to lose me, his messmate on many a voyage. 
Why don't you try Grace Morgan ? 

Carter. Ah — hm ! I prefer you, Polly. 

Poll/. And — shall I tell you the truth, Mr. Carter? 

Carter. The truth, Polly. 

Polly. You're just as good as 5'ou can be to make me 
this nice offer; but — but— I prefer another. 

Carter. The deuce you do ! Who is the happy party? 

Polly. Oh ! he knows nothing about it. 

Carter. Tell me who he is ; I'll make him plump down 
on his knees before you. 

Polly. But I thought you loved me. 

Carter. What's the use, when you love another? 

Polly. I'm not quite sure — 

Carter. O Polly ! if there's a doubt, give me the benefit 
of it. 

Polly. Pm not quite sure that he cares for me. 

Carter. He can't help it. Pd give a hundred thousand 
for his chance. {Aside.) Preferred stock is booming. 
{Enter Captain, c.) 

Captain. Polly, my girl, bring me my reefer. 

Polly. A}^ ay, dad ! {Exiti^.i.) 

Captain. It's cutting up rough outside, Mr. Carter. 

Carter. I'm glad of it; misery loves company. 

Captain. We're going to have a blow, a growler. Come 
on deck, it's glorious. 

Carter. Excuse me, captain. I've had a blow here, and 
you know I don't care to meet growlers. 

Captain. Had a blow ; what do you mean ? 

Carter. I've been asking your daughter to marry me. 

Captain. The deuce you have ! 

Carter. But she's not inclined that way. It's all right, 
captain, nothing's broke. {Aside.) Thus ends another of 
Morgan's brilliant matrimonial schemes. {Exit R. 2.) 

Captain {whistles). The nabob wants to marry my Polly, 
whew! My Poll — well, well ; and she dechnes the honor, 
my Poll — a good man, Richard Carter : he can't sail a yacht, 



3^ MESSMATES. 

PO..V. Hl^tTouSe^.-d'id"''''' ^^^^^^■> 
Po^LV ™ A "'^^ 'f", '^'ft ''■'>■ P°")'' <=<""« here. 

P0LLv.™A>f °a"fd':i; P^'- >°" ^"'l ' --^ °'d ™e-™a.es. 

Captain (smoothing her hair). Ay, ay ! we've weatherprl 
gTaL^orr:" '°»"^""^' shared^ n,an;'jo''ys, IndlTn^o:^ 

Polly. Ay, ay, dad. Poor <3ear mother. 
Biscayf ""■ " ^^'''"'' ^"S°"^» '^at night in the Bay of 

^^^ Polly. No, dad ; it would be impossible to forget 

ralhf Yl'I; i"^""" ^^"^ "i"-.' '°° ™"^h for her, she could not 

tl^.^::J::^yT^t'' '"" -'-'ess: .yin. on r 

Polly {sobbing). Dying, dad, dying ! 

Captain I don't like the word, Polly: I like to think nf 

i^OLLY. Dear, dear mother! 

Polly™" N^everdt''''^"^'''';™,''^ °^'°"' "'^^ '''St words- 

andle as ™r","T t^l ^^''^ *ere is 'no ' one^to' g^f ^ 

^eTs^n^ yl rSed^'^C^Tr't'erT ''" "^ -^> ^' ^^^^ 
Polly. Why, dad, who told you ? 

f.r f "'kt'"!''' , ^'- ^^'"^^'■' t'^^ enormously wealthy Mr Car 
ter ! Not a bad man, Polly. Such chances for shipp[n<. on 
the voyage of hfe are scarce. If you care for him p'nIK 
don't let thought of me stand in th^ way of yLSpfn^J^ 
Of course I shall miss my little shipmate. I may fed a bi^ 
lonesome sometimes, and -and -mother won't^care \w^l 
tng his eyes) if you are happy. ^^^^ 



MESSMATES. ^31 

Polly. You dear old dad, I don't care one bit for Mr. 
Carter, and I do not want to marry him. 

Captain. You don't .? Give us a hug. Then it's all right. 

Polly. Mother told me once that if I wanted to be happy, 
to marry a sailor. 

Captain {whistles). Bless her dear heart, did she ? I 
never heard of it. 

Polly. It was one of her secrets. I shall take her ad- 
vice. Of course, I shall never get such a grand one as she 
did. 

Captain. Polly, my pet, you're getting tangled in your 
tongue tackle. 

Polly. So I shall content myself with a common sailor. 

Captain. All right, Polly, one of these days. 

Polly. Dad, do you think Tom Tucker will make a good 
sailor ? 

Captain. What! that green gosling, that land-lubber, 
who's in everybody's way, he ? He doesn't know the martin- 
gale from the gaub-line. 

Polly. Did you, the first time you went to sea ? 

Captain. No ; but I didn't ship as an able seaman. 

Polly. But he can learn, can't he ? 

Captain {whistles). Polly, my pet, it seems to me you 
take uncommon interest in this uncommon seaman. What's 
Tom Tucker to you ? 

Polly. Why, nothing, of course ; but he's young and, 
and — 

Captain. Polly Taylor! I'm afraid I've been foolish in 
allowing you to repel Mr. Carter. 

Polly. Oh, no, dad ! oh, no ! 

Captain. It looks as though a storm was brewing in 
another quarter. I'll keep my eye on Master Tom Tucker. 
{Rises.) Give me my reefer, 1 must go on deck. Good-night, 
pet. {Kisses her.) 

Polly. Good-night, dad. 

Captain. Turn in early. {Exit c.) 

Polly. Ay, ay, dad. The thought of my miraculous 
escape from becoming a fine lady is evidently troubling dad. 
'Twas rather selfish in me, for I could have given dad a ship, 
and made Tom Tucker, — no, I couldn't make any thing of 
Tom with Mr. Carter's money; but I've set the captain to 
thinking, and I shouldn't wonder if Master Tom's chances 



32 MESSMATES. 

of becoming a sailor improved. Ha, ha ! there's plenty of 
room, he's such a blunderhead. {Exit L.) 

Teddy {creeping down compatiion-way). I wonder where 
Martin Secor bunks ? Nice old chap, Martin; he seems to 
have taken a particular fancy to me, and helps me over lots 
of hard places ; he's not been on deck to-night, I'm afraid he's 
sick. I wonder which is his room .f* I'll try this. {Knocks 
at door L. i ; Polly appears.) 

Polly. Well, what is it? Good gracious ! Tom Tucker. 

Teddy. Ay, ay! beg pardon, I thought 'twas Secor's 
room. 

Polly. Next door. 

Teddy. Thank you, Miss Tucker. ( Turns away) 

Polly. Ahem ! Found that friend yet ? 

Teddy. What friend ? 

Polly. That was to formally present you to me. 

Teddy. How can I when you've forbidden me to try ? 

Polly. I'm afraid Cy Goodwin will get ahead of you. 

Teddy. Afraid! Well, that's consoling. Why? 

Polly. Dad trusts him with the wheel, and that often 
brings him near me. 

Teddy. Cy's luck ! " Dad " never trusts me with any 
thing. 

Polly. That's because you're a bad sailor. 

Teddy. I suppose I am a pretty shabby lot in the nauti- 
cal line. I'm a stunner at baseball, football, and other col- 
legiate studies; but I'd rather be a sailor than any thing 
else. 

Polly. We are always wanting the impossible ; but why 
wish to be a sailor? 

Teddy. To be always near you. 

Polly. That would be nice. 

Teddy. O Polly ! 

Polly. If you were a sailor. As you are not, you will be 
obliged to keep your distance ; that is nice too. 

Teddy. Thank you, Miss Tucker. I'll try. {Turns 
away) 

Polly. Better give your attention to seamanship. You 
don't know the sails or the ropes. I don't believe you can 
make a long splice. 

Teddy. I can learn. 

Polly. When? 



MESSMATES. 33 

Teddy. After the introduction. 

Polly. Not with my help. 

Teddy. With yours and a minister's. 

Polly. You don't understand. A long splice is some- 
thing belonging to a ship. 

Teddy. I know, courtship too. In either case 'tis the 
end of a rope. 

Polly. Which you richly deserve. 

Teddy. Thank you for your good wishes. 

Polly. You will never succeed. 

Teddy. Oh, you don't know me. 

Polly. Yes, I do; you're a fresh, — a fresh-water sailor. 

Teddy. Bound to rise. You know the immortal Daniel 
once said, " There is always room at the top." 

Polly. You'll never reach it, you can't climb the rigging. 
You can do nothing. 

Teddy. I can love you. 

Polly. Without an introduction ? Oh, no ! Mr. Tucker. 
You're too forward. Go where you belong. 

Teddy. That's forward. 

Polly. Sir! 

Teddy. In the fo'castle, you know. 

Voice {outside). All hands on deck. Ahoy ! ahoy ! ahoy ! 

Polly. There, you're wanted, and you're keeping me out 
of my berth. 

Voice {outside). Tumble up, tumble up ! 

Polly. That means you ! That's where you excel. 

Teddy. In what, please ? 

Polly. Tumbling, ha, ha! you a sailor! Oh, my! 
Heaven help me if my life was placed in your keeping. 
Ha, ha! {Exit L. i.) 

Teddy. She's just jolly. She may laugh at me now ; 
but as the venerable chestnut says, "let those laugh who win," 
and I'm bound to beat Cy Goodwin. Now for a word with 
Secor. {/Cnocks.) 

Wolf {outside) Come in. 

Teddy. Ay, ay ! messmate. {Exit door L. 2.) 

Morgan {outside). Thank you, captain. If you will keep 
an eye on Grace, I'll go below. 

Captain {outside). Ay, ay ! 

{Kilter Morgan, c.) 

Morgan. I cannot stay on deck ; the roaring blast of the 



34 MESSMATES. 

gale fans the unrest which the words of Martin Secor have 
created. Martin Secor, Martin Secor ! that name throbs in 
my brain, I cannot banish it, — the man I doubt, and yet 
dread. Oh, why does he haunt me ! While he lives there 
is no peace for me. If he were dead — dead — dead — 
'twould be an easy matter to enter his stateroom in the night, 
rid myself. No — no — what ideas pursue me ! I murder ? 
I — no, no, no more of that. {Exit R. 2 ; enter Teddy l. 2.) 

Teddy. He's all right, says he's coming on deck; nice 
old chap, insisted on my taking his sou-wester because it's 
going to be a rough night. {Puts on ^'- son-iuesterr) There's 
Polly's door. I wonder if it would be safe to knock, and say 
" good-night." No, I'll not venture, it might be dangerous. 
{Exit C. ; as he goes up companion-way^ enter Morgan, 
R. 2.) 

Morgan. Martin Secor again ! he's going on deck for 
his nightly prowl. What a chance ! A push at the head of 
the companion-way, and he is in the sea, where he belongs ; 
'tis too good a chance to lose. {Darts np c, Wolf enters 
L. 2.) 

Wolf {close to locker, so as not to be seen by Morgan). 
That was Morgan. What new mischief — 

Voice {outside). Man overboard, man overboard ! 

Morgan {rushes down c.). I took the chance, and won. 
{Exit r. 2.) 

Wolf. Foul play, I'll swear. {Darts up c. ; tumult out- 
side, trampling of feet, rattling of chain, voices shouting 
'•'•Fling a rope!'''' '-^ Lower away the boat f^ " There he 
is/'') 

{Enter Grace, c.) 

Grace. Oh, I cannot bear the sight ! 
{Enter Polly, l. i.) 

Polly. What's the trouble now ? 

Grace. A man overboard, struggling for life in the mad 
sea. O Polly, such a sight ! 

Polly. Is dad on deck .? 

Grace. Yes. 

Polly. Then the man is saved. My dad never deserts 
sailors in distress on land or sea. 

Grace. But there's another. No sooner had the cry 
been raised, " Man overboard," than a man rushed by me 
and threw himself into the sea. {Enter Carter, r. 2.) 



MESSMATES. 35 

Carter. Have we sprung a leak, run ashore, or collided ? 
I haven't heard so much noise since I took the one hundred 
and ninety-first degree of Growlers. 

Voices {outside). Hurrah, hurrah, they've got 'em ! 

Carter. I should think they had, bad. 
{Enter Captain, c.) 

Captain. We're all right, the boy is safe, 

Polly. What boy, dad ? 

Captain. The boy that's always in mischief; your miser- 
able seaman, Tom Tucker. 

Polly. O dad, is he safe .'* Where is he ? O dad, Tom 
Tucker ! 

Carter {aside). Ha, ha ! preferred stock. 

CAPTAIN; Safe, the rascal ! to be sure he is. But it was 
a narrow squeak for the boy. Ah, Carter! one of your 
" Growlers " has covered himself with glory. 

Carter. Is it possible.'* 

Captain. Here they come, the boy and his preserver. 
{Enter c, Wolf with his arm around Teddy.) 

Wolf. Look up, lad, you are safe. {Leads him to chair 
L. Teddy sinks into it, and closes his eyes) 

Teddy {faintly). I can't swim another stroke. 

Polly {at l., strokes his hair). Tom, Tom ! look up, you're 
safe. 

Carter {to Wolf). Brother, your hand. {They shake) 
How's this ? You don't give the grip. 

Wolf {smiling). You're not in position. 

Carter. Faith, he's right; but "Growler" or no 
" Growler," command me for the half of my inheritance. 

Wolf {holds out his hand). " Divy." 

Carter. Oh ! that hateful word again. {Comes R.) 

Teddy. My head swims, and I'm as weak as a rat. 

Polly. Run and get some brandy, dad. 

Teddy. No, no ! I'll come round all right. Say, Martin, 
who is the lady whose sweet voice falls so soothingly on my 
ears? 

Wolf. The captain's daughter. 

Teddy. I should like to know her; introduce me, please. 

Wolf. Certainly. — Miss Taylor, it gives me pleasure to 
introduce my friend Teddy Morgan. 

Polly. Teddy Morgan! • 

Teddy {jumping up). Yours truly. Delighted to mak« 



36 MESSMATES. 

your acquaintance. Hooray! I've beat Cy Goodwin, and 
won the wager; I've been soused in the sea, and must be a 
regular salt, glory enough for one day. {Dances about stage.) 
Hip, hip, hooray! {Dances up, and meets MORGAN, who 
entefs from r. i .) 

Morgan. Teddy Morgan, my son ! 

Teddy {falling back to chair). My dad. 

Captain. Your son ! how came he on board the " Sea- 
bright " .? 

Morgan. Let him answer that. 

Teddy. In good time, dad. I am more anxious to know 
how I came in the water. 

Captain. Tumbled over, of course; I've been expecting 
it. 

Teddy. Wrong, captain ; I don't tumble that way. I 
was pushed into the sea. Perhaps hurled would better ex- 
press the manner in which I was treated, for 'twas a strong 
arm that sent me over. 

Morgan {aside). Wretch that I am! I've tried to drown 
my own boy. {Siitks into chair R.) 

Captain. Who could have been guilty of so dastardly a 
deed ? 

Polly. Could Cy Goodwin ? 

Teddy. No, Polly. I beg pardon. Miss Taylor; Harvard 
fellows don't settle bets in that way. 

Captain. I'll not sleep -until I have discovered the 
wretch. 

Wolf. Don't trouble yourself, captain. Take your rest 
in peace, be sure his sin will find him out. 

Morgan. Who spoke then ? 

Captain. Martin Secor; the man in whom I have faith, 
the man who at the peril of his life saved your son from a 
watery grave. 

Morgan. Martin Secor! {Rises.) He saved my boy? 
No ; 'tis false, he's at the bottom of the sea; you are deceiv- 
ing me. Oh, heavens ! (Falls.) 

Wolf. 'Tis only a faint. {Raises his head to his knee. 
Throius back the collar of his shirt, showing the picture 
of a vulture on his breast. To Captain.) Look there. 

Captain {extreme l.). Gracious heavens ! What do I 
see ? 



MESSMATES. IJ 

Wolf. The indelible prick of the sailor's needle. The 
years come and go, the old ship lies rotting at the bottom of 
the sea, but the vulture still lives (points to figure) there. 

Captain. Jack Ober ! my messmate. 

Picture. 

Wolf with left hand holding back the collar of Mor- 
gan's shirty right ha?id pointing to figure 07i his breast. 
Captain extreme l., pointing to Morgan. Carter ex- 
treme L., with arms folded. Polly at table. Teddy in 
chair^ L., leaning towards Morgan as if about to rise. 



ACT III. — IN PORT. 

Cabin by daylight. Crumbs on his knees before Phillis, 
clasping her right hand. 

Phillis {endeavoring to release her hand). Mr. Crumbs, 
let me go. 

Crumbs. O Phillis, listen to de beating ob dis swelled 
heart ! 'Tis yer last chance : take me now, or lose me for- 
ebber. In an hour we shall be anchored : we shall go 
ashore. 

Phillis. And the first girl you meet, you will fall in love 
with. 

Crumbs. Dat's a fac ; dat's what skeers me. I knows 
my weakness. Sabe from de temptations ob de fair sex. 

Phillis. La, Mr. Crumbs, I 'spect I shall have to marry 
you to get rid of you ! 

Crumbs. Dat's a fac ; get rid of me, or I shall get rid of 
myself, by frowing this lub-lacerated body into de waters 
ob oblivion. Ef I can't lib wid you, I won't lib widout you. 
Sabe me, or be forebber haunted by de ghost ob a diseased 
African. 

Phillis. Well, Mr. Crumbs, if you are of the same mind 
when we drop anchor, I'll consent — 

Crumbs. To marry me .'' 

Phillis. To your becoming a ghost. 
(Teddy rmis down c.) 

Teddy. Great Scott! {Tur?is, and 7'uns t^p c, Phillis 
screams, and runs off L. i.) 

Crumbs {rises). Now, who's dat disturbin' de meetin'? 
In de bery moment ob excruciatin' bliss de spoiler comes, 
and Phillis scoots. (Teddy creeps down c, cautiously.) Oh, 
it's you, young ham-boner ! 

Teddy. I say, Crumbs, is the coast clear? 

Crumbs. Don't know nuffin bout de coast: de girl am 
cleared. 

Teddy. Sorry to have disturbed your tete-a-tete. 
38 



MESSMATES. 39 

Crumbs. Now don't you be calling names. She's Phillis, 
simple Phillis. 

Teddy. Simple! Do you think so, Crumbs? How 
about the larder? 

Crumbs. Now — now — who — who — Look a-here, 
young ham-boner ! I don't want no nonsense. Dar ar chords 
in de human breast dat can't be handled wid impurity. 

Teddy. I've an idea that the fair Phillis has made as sad 
havoc with your chords as she did with your larder. 

Crumbs. Now — now — 

Teddy. Let's drop anatomy, and turn to business. Here's 
a letter for you. {Presents letter) 

Ck\}ubs {taking it). Letter for me? Whar did it come from? 

Teddy. A boat has just arrived from shore bringing the 
mail, which arrived on the steamer a week ago. 

Crumbs {ttmiing it over a?id over). Who's it from ? 

Teddy. Open it and see. Have you lost your senses ? 

Crumbs. Los' my specs overboard de day we sailed : 
dat's what's de marter. 

Teddy. Shall I open it ? 

Crumbs {giving letter). Ef you please. 

Teddy {opens letter). It's signed " Nicodemus Johnson." 

Crumbs. Dat so ? Why, dat's de parson dat was about 
to jine Sophia Sassafras and me when de cyclone struck and 
dissolbed de caucus. What's he say ? 

Teddy {reads). " Cornbrake Crumbs, Esq." 

Crumbs. Dat's me. Go on. 

Teddy {reads). " In de far distant country to which you 
are trabellin' dar are temptations." 

Crumbs. Dat's what I tole Phillis. 

Teddy {reads). " I know your weakness." 

Crumbs. An' I knows de parson's, — Welsh rarebits at 
two in de mornin', an soft-shell crabs dat make hard-shell 
sermons. 

Teddy {reads). " Dis is to warn you. When you axed me 
to rehearse wid you and Miss Sassafras de ceremony in de 
back parlor before de regular performance in de front, when 
you two jined right hands and spoke de words I told you, 
you were legally married " — 

Crumbs. Yas ; well, I guess not : wa'n't no witnesses. 

Teddy {reads). " For de widow Sassafras was behind de 
door, and Welcome Jones was peekin' fro the keyhole." 



40 MESSMATES. 

Crumbs. Dat settles it. 

Teddy {reads). " You are a married man ; so behave 
yourself, and send my fee by return mail." 

Crumbs. Send de fee ! Don't get no half-dollar fer a 
rehearsal from dis chile. 

Teddy. Accept my congratulations, Crumbs. {Gives 
letter.) Kiss the bride for me when you meet. The parson, 
the widow, and peeping Jones have settled you for life. 
Oh, happy, happy Crumbs ! ha, ha, ha! {Exit c, laughing.) 

Crumbs {jnocking). Haw, haw, haw! Dat ar ham-boner 
jes' make me wild. Wh — wh — what de widder Sassafras 
doin' ahind dat door? An' — an' dey call dat foolishness a 
weddin' : 'spect I'se fixed, do ; ain't no goin ahind de returns. 
But I guess ef de parson wants his fee, he'll hab to take it 
outer de contribution-box. 

{Enter Phillis, l. r.) 

Phillis. Oh ! Mr. Crumbs, I've been thinking about 
your offer, and have decided that I — I — will accept you. 

Crumbs. What's dat.? 

Phillis. I am ready to marry you. 

Crumbs. Golly, here's a row ! Must I shatter de proud 
hopes ob dat trusting girl? {Aloud.) O Phillis! my heart 
bleeds for you, but it must not, cannot, be. De surgeon hab 
jes' inform me dat I hab an enlargement ob de cattapillary 
glands which any excitement would precipitate into con- 
glomoration ob de exotic nerbs. 

Phillis. Then we will have a very quiet wedding: just 
the parson and a couple of witnesses. 

Crumbs. One ahind de door, and one ahind de keyhole. 
No, Phillis, no rehearsal. 
. Phillis. Rehearsal ? 

Crumbs. Yes. Well, I mean, Philhs, it's no use knockin' 
at de door ob dis heart, for when de cattapillary glands am 
leadin' de orchestra in de grand harmony ob de human 
structure, de heart must play de second fiddle. 

Phillis. Then you don't mean to marry me. 

Crumbs. I can't, PhilHs. De parson — I mean de sur- 
geon — 

Phillis. Bother the surgeon ! You've had a letter from 
home, from that Sassafras girl, and you want to throw me 
over. You base, deceitful man ! {sobs) win a poor girl's love 
{sobs\ and then basely {sobs) desert her ! [^Sobbing) 



MESSMATES. 4I 

Crumbs. I feel for you, Phillis. I know what a loss I 
must be to you, but de will ob de medical surgeon must be 
obeyed. 

Phillis {sobbing). Oh, what shall I do ? what shall I do? 

Crumbs {aside). Now jes' see de harm dat comes ob 
rehearsals ! Ef I jes' had dat Welcome Jones by de scruff 
ob de neck, Fd put his head fro' de smalles' keyhole ebber 
made. 

Phillis {sobbing). O, Mr. Crumbs, do not forsake me ! 

Crumbs. I'se sorry for you, Phillis, but de course ob 
true lub nebber did run smoove ; an' — an' — I mus' run an' 
take a pill. {Exit R. i e.) 

Phillis {sobs until Crumbs is off., then looks up smil- 
ing). Take your pill, Mr. Crumbs. The surgeon that made 
it is well rid of you ; ha, ha, ha ! {Exit l. i.) 

Arabella {sticks her head out R. i). I do believe this 
pesky boat is getting into smooth water again. {Creeps out.) 
For twelve days I've been tossed and tumbled in that narrow 
bunk, expecting every minute to be my last; and they call 
this a pleasure-trip. I've shrunk so I can scarcely keep my 
clothes from slipping off. Oh, dear ! why did I leave my 
happy home ? 

{Enter Carter, c.) 

Carter. Why, Mrs. Caraway, this is a surprise. Old 
Father Neptune has treated you so shamefully, we feared 
we should never see you again. But you are all right now ? 

Arabella. All there is left of me. Father Neptune 
has indeed treated me shamefully, ah ! but not so badly 
as I was treated by one Richard Carter ten years ago. 

Carter. You allude to our httle flirtation — 

Arabella. Little flirtation ! hear the man ! The man 
to whom I gave my youthful affections, the man I wor- 
shipped as he sat enthroned among his fellows, the Grand 
Panjodah of the Antique Order of Disgruntled Growlers. 
Oh, those days, those happy, too happy days ! 

Carter. But, my dear Arabella, those days have passed. 
You became the wife of old Tom Caraway, and I am no 
longer a Growler. 

Arabella. Not a Growler? Have you basely deserted 
the craft that honored you ? Have you forgotten those fiery 
terms which from 3'our eloquent lips made tyrants of trade 
tremble, aristocrats of wealth quake ? 



42 MESSMATES. 

Carter. I've no occasion to remember them now. I'm 
rich. When a man's wealthy, he can't go round begging an 
excited multitude to "down with the rich." He might as 
well try to pull himself up by his boots. 

Arabella. And for this man's sake I too became a 
Growler ! 

Carter. What? 

Arabella. I am a member of the Oriental Annex. 

Carter. Is it possible ? Give me a sign. 
(Arabella places her left hand under her right elbow, the 

right ha?id upright, then slowly lets the hand fall for- 
ward three times.) 

Carter. The sign of the spinster degree. Correct. 
What does it signify .? 

Arabella. That my hand is free. 

Carter. Correct. Now, then, the grip {extends his right 
hand) when a brother offers his hand. 

Arabella {extending her hand). 'Nuff — 

Carter. Said — 

Both {clasping hands). Shake. 

Carter. Correct. Now, then, the grand union sign. 

Arabella. In position? 

Carter. Of course. {They place themselves back to 
back.) Now : one, two, three. ( They turn, embrace, and 
speak in each other's ear.) " Divy." 

Teddy {rushes down c). More spoons ! {Runs up c. ; 
Arabella screams, and rims off,K. i .) 

Carter {looking after Teddy). Correct. The fair Ara- 
bella is undoubtedly a sister of the Oriental Annex of expec- 
tant tarryers, whose motto is " the good time coming." The 
good time does not come to all of them, but they have a 
good time hoping, all the same. 

Arabella {sticks her head out). Are you alone ? 

Carter. Correct. Enter, fear not. 

Arabella {enters). Oh, what a misfortune to be caught 
in such a predicament ! 

Carter. Never mind, Arabella: 'twas only a grand 
union sign. 

Arabella. Who was the intruder? 

Carter. I didn't see his face ; but as there's but one 
individual who is always round when he's not wanted, I 
should say it was Teddy Morgan. 



MESSMATES. 43 

Arabella. My nephew ! The whole family will hear of 
it. I shall be laughed at. 

Carter. Not on my account. That little touch of the 
antique has rekindled the flame of love in the breast of the 
apostate Growler. You were my first, my only love. We 
have both sought the mysteries, have both knelt before the 
vermilion, both taken the vows. I've broken mine, but you 
are still among the faithful. Let us together seek the antique 
fane, and go into business together, with the grand union 
sign above the door. 

Arabella. Mercy sakes ! what are you talking about ? 

Carter. About marriage. 

Arabella. Oh ! 

Carter. Will you have me ? 

Arabella {quick). Yes. 

Carter. Correct. Spinster sign for the last time, when 
a brother offers his hand. {Exterids his.) 

Arabella {extending hers). 'Nuff — 

Carter. Said — 

Both. Shake. 

Arabella. O Richard, I'm so happy ! 

Carter. In future we'll be happy together. I'll go back 
to the antique, when I marry you. I'll give up my wealth. 

Arabella. To whom.? 

Carter. The Growlers, of course. 

Arabella. Oh, no, my dear! you'll do nothing of the 
sort: we are aristocrats now. 

Carter. Do you intend to shake the Growlers too? 

Arabella. All but one, when we are married. I may 
shake him if he does not behave himself. 

Carter. Correct. Arabella, I've seen younger women — 

Arabella. Richard ! 

Carter. Than Polly Taylor ; handsomer women — 

Arabella. Richard ! 

Carter. Than the celebrated Jersey Lily — 

Arabella {tenderly). O Richard ! 

Carter. But for solid happiness and enduring bliss, 
give me the woman who dared join a mystic society, and 
keep its secret. These are belles, but she {opening his 
arms) — Arabella. 

Arabella {her arms about his neck). My Grand Pan- 
jodah ! {Exeunt c.) 



44 MESSMATES. 

{Enter Wolf, l. 2.) 

Wolf. This masquerade is almost past endurance. For 
six days Jack Ober has kept his berth. Since that stormy 
night in mid-ocean no one has seen his face, except his 
daughter. They told me he was ill, nigh unto death. Have 
I gone too far.-* Have I racked this guilty man's conscience 
beyond the point of justice? Have I, in seeking to bring 
him to confession, been guilty of as foul a crime as that for 
which he suffers ? No, no, I do but seek the fulfilment of a 
dying man's last request. Let me but meet him again, let 
but one penitential tear drop from his eyes, and the future 
is bright with hope. {Enter Grace r. 2.) His daughter! 
{Turns away^ and, during the scene with Grace, keeps his 
face from her) 

Grace. Martin Secor ! The very man I hoped to meet ! 

Wolf. Your father is recovering ? 

Grace. Thanks to a* strong constitution, yes. 

Wolf. I am glad to hear it. 

Grace. That is false. For every pang he has suffered, 
you have hugged yourself in triumph. 

Wolf. I.? 

Grace. Yes, you, a human vampire draining the life- 
blood of your victim ! You have pursued him with relent- 
less hate. In his delirium there was but one name on his 
lips, — Martin Secor. I hate the name as I hate you. 

Wolf {agitated, aside). Heaven help me to bear this ! 

Grace. How has my father wronged you ? tell me, his 
daughter.. Can gold requite.'' It shall be thrown to you in 
thousands. Must life alone satisfy your vengeance ? Take 
mine: I would gladly die to save him. Speak! What is 
the wrong? 

Wolf. I cannot answer you. 

Grace. Coward ! you dare not. In some crafty way 
you have obtained some hold upon him. You are not bold 
enough to strike one blow, and free him from your power, 
but, vulture-like, feed on his fears, exulting in the prolonga- 
tion of his misery. Oh, would that I were a man! I'd 
match my strength against your cunning. To a wretch like 
you, gray hairs should be no protection. 

Wolf {with an effort). Lady, you wrong me : I am not 
the guilty wretch you think me. As freely as you would lay 
down your life for your father, would I mine for you and 



MESSMATES. 45 

yours. If your father has wronged me, three words from 
his lips would be ample satisfaction : three little words worth 
more to me than gold or life ; for they would free me from an 
oath, free me from the taunt of cowardice, which from a fair 
woman's lips to an honest man, which I am, is worse than 
death. 

Grace. How is this? Have I been mistaken? 

Wolf. Time will show. We are nearing port. Already 
the perfume of Bermuda's tropical luxuriance is wafted on 
the breeze. Ere your foot touches the land, you shall con- 
fese that Martin Secor is as true as yonder lover, who, 
across the sea, awaits tidings frt)m his mistress. Only give 
me time. I'm old and weak, but, thank Heaven ! neither 
wretch nor coward. {Agitated.) No, no! {Staggers into 

L. 2.) 

Grace. An honest man ! His acts belie his words. He 
never looked me in the face. Three words would free him ! 
If that is all, my father shall speak them. Capt. Taylor's 
words, " I have faith in Martin Secor," ring in my ears. I 
have no faith, but hope our voyage ended we shall see the 
last of Martin Secor. 

{Enter Polly, c.) 

Polly {sings as she enters). 

" A Yankee yacht and a Yankee crew, 
Tally-i-o, you know, 
Can beat the world on the waters bhie ; 
Sing hey aloft and alow." 

Grace, we're nearly in. You should be on deck. Mrs. 
Caraway is there. 

Grace. Aunt on deck ! that's good news. 

Polly. I'm afraid she's not feeling very well, for Mr. 
Carter has his arm around her, and she clings to him awfully. 
Are you going up ? 

Grace. Not just now. I must go to my stateroom and 
look after Phillis. {Exit l. i.) 

Polly. She's real nice. Of course : isn't she Ted's sis- 
ter? Poor fellow ! I snub him every time I have a chance, 
but I shall hate awfully to lose him. {Turns to c. as Teddy 
comes down., tuinbling into her ar7ns.) 

Teddy. I beg pardon. 

Polly. Will you never learn to come down properly ? 



46 MESSMATES. 

Teddy. Don't want to, Miss Polly. The captain told 
me that if I continued to improve my chances I should suc- 
ceed in breaking my neck; and I'm bound to succeed in 
something. Jolly lark on deck! Mr. Carter and aunt Ara- 
bella are spooning like Romeo and Juliet. 

Polly. Well, what of it ? 

Teddy. It's shameful at their time of life. Mr. Carter 
is no chicken; and aunt Arabella, — well, she says she has 
seen our century-plant bloom once, and I know it's nearly 
ready to flower again. 

Polly. Why, Teddy Morgan ! that would make her 
nearly a hundred years old. • 

Teddy. She looks it. Oh, she's fishing for him. I 
heard her call him her grand pan of chowder. Bah ! and 
he looks at her, — well, I couldn't begin to describe the 
ecstatic gleams he manages to flash through his gig-lights ! 

Polly. Oh, I know! Mrs. Caraway is not the only 
one who has received those tokens of affection. I wouldn't 
have believed the man could have so soon forgotten me. 

Teddy. You, Polly? 

Polly. Yes, me. I had only to say yes, and become a 
millionnairess. 

Teddy. What did you say ? 

Polly. That I preferred another. 

Teddy. One Teddy Morgan, alias Tom Tucker, alias 
Ted the Fresh. 

Polly. Well, I like that. 

Teddy. Of course you do. You may snub Thomas 
Tucker as much as you please, but when Teddy Morgan, at 
the ripe age of twenty-one, says to you, "Polly, my darling, 
the parson is waiting for the bride and groom to make a long 
splice," you're not going to drop your end of the rope. 

Polly. I'm going to marry a sailor. 

Teddy. So you shall, Polly. I have burned my college- 
boats, and henceforth old ocean is my alma mater. In the 
words of a celebrated marine poet, " I'm bound to be a 
sailor-boy, by jingo ! or die." 

Polly. Your father will never consent. 

Teddy. No matter as long as yours does. So give me 
your hand, my jolly little messmate {takes her hand and 
kneels), and hear me swear — 

Polly. Why, Ted ! 



MESSMATES. 47 

Teddy. That until this battered hulk lies bleaching on 
the shores of time, Teddy Morgan, able seaman — 
Polly. Ha, ha, ha ! 
Teddy. Will be true to the sailor's toast, — 

" Thv^ wind that blows, the ship that goes, 
And the lass that loves a sailor." 

How's that for nautics ? 

Polly. Very good. You deserve promotion. You'll 
soon be able to command a smack, perhaps. 

Teddy {throws arm about her waist). I'd rather beg one. 

Polly {struggling). Teddy Morgan ! 
{Enter CAPTAIN, c.) 

Captain. Belay, there, belay ! (Teddy and Polly sepa- 
rate., she over to r., he to l.) You young pirate ! what do 
you mean by boarding my little clipper in that way .'' 

Teddy. Well, you see, captain, she was running free, 
and I hove down to speak her, when my fore-yard arm got 
entangled in her waist, and — and — 

Captain. Avast, you've unshipped your rudder. Polly, 
what new caper has this young lobster been cutting up ? 

Polly. Nothing much, dad. He was running down, and 
I was running up, and we ran smack against each other. 

Teddy {aside). I missed the smack. 

Captain. A pretty yarn ! There's been too much skulk- 
ing here. I don't like it. As soon as we anchor. Master 
Ted, I shall discharge you, and turn you over to your 
father. 

Teddy. But I don't like being turned over. I shipped 
for the voyage out and back. Why should you discharge 
me? I've done nothing. 

Captain. Right, my lad ; that's reason enough. 

Teddy. Very well, then, I shall ship on another vessel. 

Polly. And so will I. 

Captain. Polly! 

Polly, He wants to be a sailor, and I want to have 
him — 

Teddy. After I become a sailor. Don't you see ? 

Captain. I see breakers ahead. On deck, you young 
rascal, and swab out the jolly-boat ! 

Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! {Goes up c. Turns in companion- 
way.) Polly, don't give up the ship. 



48 MESSMATES. 

Captain (roars). Will you be off ? 

Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! (Ezi^ c.) 

Captain. Now, Polly Taylor, you're to have nothing 
more to do with that young porpoise. 

Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! 

Captain. You've allowed your affections to drift into 
very shallow waters. Clap on all sail, and sheer off before 
you get aground. 

Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! if wind and tide are with you. If 
not ? 

Captain. Drop an anchor to windward, and wait the 
turn of the tide. 

Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! that suits me better. I think my 
little bark is sailing in deep water to a peaceful harbor ; not 
drifting, dad, for I was taught by an old salt that the captain 
who allows his ship to drift is no sailor. 

Captain. You're right there, Polly. 

Polly. But as you think there is danger, and it's too late 
to wear ship, over goes the anchor. 

Captain. Too late ! Are you in love with that mon- 
key .? 

Polly. Pm sure of it, dad. 

Captain. Well, Pm not, and I forbid your having any 
thing more to do with him. 

Polly. Ay, ay, captain ! 

Captain. Captain ! Why not dad, as usual .-^ 

Polly. As you have taken command of my affections, I 
wish to pay proper respect to my superior officer. 

Captain. Polly ! 

Polly. Oh, it's all right, dad ! You know better than I 
what's best for me; but he's so jolly and bright, and so kind- 
hearted, and — and — Oh, it's so hard to give him up ! 
(Sods.) 

Captain. Who said any thing about giving him up? 
{Takes her in his arms.) O Polly, Polly, my pet, don't cry! 
You know I wouldn't stand in the way of your happiness. 
But such a boy ! 

Polly. He's growing every day. 

Captain. Yes, worse and worse. He can't splice a rope, 
nor reeve a block. Polly, I thought you were going to marry 
a sailor. 

Polly. Of my own making, yes. Teddy would sail with 



MESSMATES. 49 

us, and I could teach him ; and when he is a real sailor we 
could marry. Don't you see, dad ? 

Captain. And are you willing to wait until thartime ? 

Polly. Forever, dad. 

Captain. Then dry your eyes, pet; I consent. {Aside.) 
She'll die an old maid. 

Polly {hugging him). Oh, you dear old dad ! May 1 run 
and tell him 1 {Runs up c.) 

Captain. Belay, there ! (Polly turns) Never disturb 
a sailor when he's on duty. 

Polly. Oh, he's no sailor! Eh, dad? Ha, ha, ha! 
{Exit c.) 

Captain. Ah ! she had me there, and she'll have him. 
Just like her mother; when she fell in love with me, I didn't 
know the compass from the caboose ; but she waited, and so 
shall Master Ted. If there's the timber of a tar in him, I'll 
make him worthy of my Polly. {Enter MoKGA-ii from R. 2 ; 
slowly totters to chair, R., and sinks into it.) Jack Ober at 
last. {Turns his back to hi7n.) 

Morgan. Six days of misery, and no strength to rally ! 
When the breeze brought the fragrance of that tropic para- 
dise through my window, I felt its reviving freshness, and 
longed to be on deck ; but on my feet my limbs refuse to do 
their duty, my head swims, and I totter hke an old man in 
his dotage. What has brought me to this.^ not a week's 
illness 1 No, no ! Remorse, the demon that has pursued me 
since that guilty night, is claiming its prey. There is no 
escape, (^ees Captain.) Ah ! captain, you see I have 
weathered the storm. {Attempts to rise : sinks back.) Give 
me a helping hand. 

Qavim^ {without turning). I have no helping hand for 
Jack Ober. 

Morgan (^^/z^j"/). Jack — Jack Ober! He knows me. 
. Captain. The man w|jo swore eternal friendship with a 
messmate, then deserted him, left him to starve. The Judas 
who sold his honest heart for a money-belt ! A thief ! A 
helping-hand to such as you ? No : I'd sooner cut it off, 
and cast it into the sea. 

Morgan. You are right, old messmate : I deserve your 
scorn. I did sell my honesty for gold, did desert you. 
Crush ,me, trample upon me ; I deserve no man's help, no 
man's pity. 



50 MESSMATES. 

Captain {turns). O Jack, Jack ! why did you do this 
thing, you who before that night deserved the title by which 
you were hailed, — honest Jack Ober ? 

Morgan. Don't, Nat! don't call me that name. 

Captain. And brave Jack Ober. Remember how you 
won that name. 'Twas when you saved the captain's child 
at Calcutta; and you deserved it. 

Morgan. Honest and brave. Titles to be defended by 
worthy actions and a pure life. When it came to the test, I, 
coward-like, deserted them. O Nat, I am an accursed 
wretch ! 

Captain. Belay, Jack ! When you hand in the log of 
your voyage to the great underwriter up there, I'm afraid 
'twill go hard with you : you've not sailed by compass. Let's 
leave that matter to Him. You say you're sorry, so, for 
the sake of the honest days, there's my hand. 

Morgan. No, no ! I cannot take it : you don't know the 
worst of me. I — I — murdered Martin Secor. 

Captain. Come, come, Jack, your head is still weak. 
Martin Secor was on deck an hour ago. 

Morgan. Yes, the impostor. The real Martin Secor fol- 
lowed me that night, swam after my boat, grappled it. I 
struck him down. {Staggers to his feet.) I see him now 
sinking, sinking, sinking ; now he's gone, never to return. 
Will nothing blot out that horrid sight ,'' 

Captain. Jack, Jack, you rave ! you are ill ! let me call 
your daughter. 

Morgan. Ay ! call her, call my son, to see their father 
on his knees, to hear him confess his crime, and implore 
pardon. (Wolf 7-tishes to Q.from l. 2.) 

Wolf. Hush ! The secrets of that night are ours alone. 
We three will settle them. 

Morgan. You here .? 

Wolf. To give you absolutiort if you repent. 

Morgan. Heaven knows I do. 

Wolf. Then I am free to speak. When you struck at 
Martin Secor, you missed him, but he sank, encountering in 
his descent the trailing painter of your boat. 

Morgan. Ah ! 

Wolf. By this he sustained himself, and moved with you. 
Fearful that a second blow from your oar might prove fatal, 
he floated in silence until the boat was passing an island, 



MESSMATES. 5 1 

when he abandoned it, and swam ashore. He was rescued 
in three days. 

Morgan. He still lives ? 

Wolf. He died ten years ago at Melbourne. 

Captain. But who are you .^ , , , -^u 

Wolf. His executor. There was a lad wbo, with one 
Nat Taylor, escaped to San Francisco. The faithful sailor 
ell ill. The lad, by a fortunate meeting, fell into the arms 
of his father. They sailed for Melbourne. On his death- 
bed the father told his story, and bade the boy seek the mail 
who had wronged him, and wring a confession from him. 
These were his'words : " Let not the friendship of man or 
the love of woman deter you from your purpose. He be- 
ieves himself a murderer.' His guilty soul wi 1 some ime 
betray its secret; then, if but three words of repentance 

^"MotoA^!' Tarn f"ee at last, at last ! (SMs seeping into 

'^CAPxiiN. But the boy, the little chap I took, where is 

he ? 

Wolf {throws off wig and whiskers. Grace appears 

"^"GraS'^'aIi, Horace, Horace Gaylord ! {Runs into 
Wolf's anns.) 

Wolf. Dear, dear Grace ! 

Morgan. Horace Gaylord ! 

Wolf. To which add Secor, and you have my name. 

Grace. O Horace, what does this mean ? 

Wolf. That as mv lady-love went off yachting without 
my permission, I had the curiosity to know why and where 

'^GrIcF ' And you have been on board all the time, and 
never let me know you ! and then the horrid names I called 
vou ! O Horace, what does it all mean? 

Wolf That three words have been spoken which make 
your father and me friends for life. {Holds out hand to 

Morgan.) , ^ _ ... r^-^rf^ i-.p'<^ 

Morgan {grasping it warmly). For hfe. Grace, he s 

the prince of good fellows. j^„„u 

Grace. A miracle ! and he may marry your daugh- 

^^ M organ. To-morrow if he likes. I wish I had a dozen : 



52 MESSMATES. 

he should marry them all. {Comes forward.) Nat Taylor 
old messmate, I'll take that hand now. ^ ' 

Captain. Ay, ay, Jack, with the old Vulture grip ! ( Thev 
shake hands warmly, and stand by l. table^ conversmi 
Wolf and Grace near r. table. Polly and Teddy 
^//^«r c, hand in hand.) 

Polly. We've anchored, dad. 

7 "^Sf^^'j She's swinging at her moorings (J2£//«FJ Polly's 
hajid\ and so am I. {They come down t) 

Wolf. Don't forget to return my sou'wester, Ted. 

Teddy. Hallo, Horace ! have they found you out ? 

Wolf. Yes : the stowaway is unmasked. 

Teddy. Serves you right for bamboozling the whole com- 
pany except me The moment I cast my weather-eye on you, 
I saw through the disguise. ^ ^ ' 

Grace. And you never told me ! 

Polly. Nor me. Smart, ain't you .? 

r.7^''5'E' T,^^""^ ^'^''' ^''">^- '^^^t's the first praise I have 
received for all my endeavors in the nautical line The green 
hand's lookmg up. ** 

tremeT) ^^^^^^ ^' ' ^' '^'^^ ^^^^^^-' ^^^^^ ^own ex- 

Crumbs {to Teddy). Loek a-here, young ham-boner! dat 
ar letter trom de parson am written on one ob my bill ob 
tare. How de parson git dat } ( Enter Phillis l. 2.) 

Teddy. Ask the parson {points to Phillis) over there 
^ Phillis. La, Mr. Crumbs! I stole it from the larder- I 
just tooled you to get rid of you. 

Crumbs. O Phillis! how could you.? O, dat ar' fill ob 
bear am de camel dat breaks de spell. 

Grace. Now, Horace, tell me — - 

Wolf. No more, Grace. Our troubles are over. Out- 
ward bound with favoring breezes, all looked bright before 
us. In mid-ocean we wresded with the storm, but now all is 

re-un1"ed — ^"^'^"^ ^^ ^^ ^^'^ '""^^ P^""'* ^^^ messmates 
Morgan {shaking hands with Captain). That's so, 

Captain. Ay, ay. Jack ! 
Wolf. New loves budding — 

Teddy {tucking Voia.x'^ arm into his). That means us, 
Polly : we are the buds. * 



MESSMATES. 53 

Wolf. True hearts united ! ( Takes Grace in his arms.) 

Happiness complete ! who can ask for more ? 

(Carter and Arabella appear c. on steps.) 
Carter. I can {stretches out hand). " Divy." 
Arabella {throws her arms about his neck). My Grand 

Panjodah ! 

Slow Curtain. 



THE READING CLUB ANL* HANPY SPEAKER. jBeiug oeiec 
tions in Prose and I'oetry, Serious, Humorous, I'atlietic, Patriotic, and 
Dramatic, for Readings and liecitatione. Edited by George M. Baker. 
Paper cover, fifteen cents each part. 

CONTENTS OF READING-CLUB NO. 1. 



At the Soldiers' Graves. 

Battle-Hymn. 

"Boofer Lady," The. 

Bricklayers, The. 

Bumpkin's Courtship, The. 

Charles Sumner. 

" Curfew must not ring To-night." 

Closet Scene, The. (" Hamlet.") 

Defiance of Harold the Dauntless. 

Der Drummer. 

Deutsch Maud MuUer, The. 

Doorstep, The. 

Factory -girl's Diary, The; 

Farmer Bent's Sheep-washing. 

Godiva. 

" Good and Better." 

Happiest Couple, The. (From the 

" School for Scandal.") 
Happy Life, The. 
Hans Breitraann's Party. 
Hour of Prayer, The. 
How Terry saved his Bacon. 
How He saved St. Michael's. 
In the Tunnel. 
Jakie on Watermelon-pickle. 
Jester's Sermon, The. 
" Joneft." 



Mahmoud. 

Mistletoe-Bough, The. 

Mr. Caudle and his Second Wife. 

Mr. O'Gallagher's Three Roads t« 

Learning. 
Nobody There. 
Old Age. 

Old Farmer Gray gets Photographed. 
Old Methodist's Testimony, The. 
Overthrow of Belshazzar. 
Puzzled Census-Taker, The. 
Popping the Question. 
Red Jacket, The. 
Rob Roy MacGregor. 
Samson. 

Senator's Pledge, The. 
Showman's Courtship, The. 
Squire's Story, The. 
Story of the Bad Little Boy wh« 

didn't come to Grief, The. 
Story of the Faithful Soul, The. 
Stranger in the pew, A. 
Tauler. 

Voices at the Throne, The. 
Whistler, The. 
Yankee and the Dutchman's Dog, 

The. 



Contents of Reading-Club No. 2. 



Address of Spottycus. 

Baby Atlas. 

Baby's Soliloquy, A. 

Beauty of Youth, The. 

Biddy's Troubles. 

Bobolink, The. 

Broken Pitcher, The. 

By the Alma River. 

Calling a Boy in the Morning. 

Cooking and Courting. 

Curing a Cold. 

Double Sacrifice, The. 

Farm-yard Song. 

Fortune-Hunter, The. 

Goin' Home To-day. 

Harry and I. 

In the Bottom Drawer. 

Last Ride, The. 

Learned Negro, The. 

Little Puzzler, The, 

Man with a Cold in his Head, The. 

Merchant of Venice, Trial Scene. 

Modest Cousin, The. 

Militia General, A. 

«• }^^^^ar mv God. to Thee." 



Old Ways and the New, The. 

Opening of the Piano, The. 

Our Visitor, and What He cwne for. 

Over the River. 

Paddock Elms, The. 

Pickwickians on Ice, The. 

Picture, A. 

Press On. 

Possession. 

Quaker Meeting, The. 

Queen Mab. 

Rescue, The. 

Shadow on the Wall, Thd. 

Short Sermon, A. 

Sisters, The. 

Sunday Morning. 

There is no Death. 

Tobe's Monument. 

Toothache. 

Tragical Tale of the Tropics, A. 

Traveller's Evening Song, A. 

Two Anchors, The. 

Two Irish Idyls. 

What's the Matter with that Noa«? 

Workers and Thinkers. 



Contents of Reading-Club No. 3. 



Appeal in Behalf of American Lib- 
erty. 

Ambition. 

Auction Mad. 

Aurelia's Unfortunate Young Man. 

Ballad of the Ovsterman, The. 

Bob Cratciiit's Christmas-Dinner. 

Bone and Sinew and Brain. 

Bunker Hill. 

Burial of the Dane, The. 

Church of the Best Licks, The. 

Oouutess and the Serf, The. 

Deck-Hand and the Mule, The. 

Evils of Ignorance, The. 

First Snow-fall, The. 

Flower-mission, Junior, The. 

For Love. 

Fra Giacomo. 

How rersimraons took Cah ob der 
Baby. 

Jonesville Siiigin' Quire, The. 

Last Tilt, The. 

Lay of Real Life, A. 

Law of Kindness, The. 

Losses. 

Mad Luce. 

Minute-men of 75, The. 



Mosquitoes. 

Mr. Stiver's Horse. 

Ode. 

Old Fogy Man, The. 

Pat and the Oysters. 

Recantation of Galileo, The. 

Roast Big. A Bit of Lamb. 

Roman Soldier, The. 

Riding down. 

Schneider's Tomatoes. 

School of Reform, Scenes from th*^ 

Similia Similibus. 

Singer, The. 

Solemn Book- Agent, The. 

Sons of New England, The. 

Speech of the Hon. Perverse Peabody 

on the Acquisition of Cuba. 
Temperance. 
Twilight. 

Two Loves and a Life. 
Two Births. 

Uncle Reuben's Baptism, 
Victories of Peace, The. 
Wedding-Fee, The. 
Wolves, The. 
What the Old Man said. 



Contents of Reading-Club No. 4. 



Battle Flag of Sigurd, The. 
♦' Business " in Mississippi. 
Bell of Atri, The. 
Cane-bottomed Chair, The. 
Cobbler's Secret, The. 
Cuddle Doon. 
Custer's Last Charge. 
Daddy Worthless. 
Decoration. 

Dignity of Labor, The. 
Elder Sniflae's Courtship. 
Goin' Somewhere. 
Grandfather. 

He Giveth His Beloved Sleep. 
Hot Roasted Chestnut, The. 
House-top Saint, The. 
^•Hunchback," Scene from thei. 
Indian's Claim, The. 
Joan of Arc. 
Leedle Yawcob Strauss. 
Little Black-eyed Rebel, The. 
Little Hero, The. 
Little Shoe, A. 
Lost Cats, The. 
Hary Moloney's Philosophy. 



Minot's Ledge. 

Mother's Fool. 

Mr. O'Hoolahan's Mistake. 

Mr. Watkins celebrates. 

My Neighbor's Baby. 

Palmetto and the Pine, The. 

Pip's Fight. 

Post-Boy, The. 

Pride of Battery B, The. 

" Palace o' the King, The." 

Paper don't Say, The. 

Penny ye meant to gi'e, Tha. 

Question, A. 

Robert of Lincoln. 

Song of the Dying, The. 

St. John the Aged. 

Tramp, The. 

Tom. 

Two Portraits. 

Village Sewing Society, The. 

Way Astors are Made, The. 

What is a Minority? 

Widder Green's Last Wor^ 

William Tell. 

Zeuobia'g Defence. 



fei^i^tiTS OF Reading-Club No. 5. 



k Blessing on the Dance. 

A Charge with Prince Rupert. 

A Mysterious Disappearance. 

Art-Matters in Indiana. 

A Rhine Legend. 

A Watch that " Wanted Cleaning." 

An Exciting Contest. 

An Indignation-Meeting. 

An Irish Wake. 

Ballad of a Baker. 

Ballad of Constance. 

Ballad of Ronald Clare. 

Between the [.iaes. 

Burdock's Goat. 

Butterwick's Weaknesa. 

Dot Baby off Mine, 

Edith helps Things along. 

Failed. 

Faithful Little Peter. 

Five. 

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous. 

Good-By. 

" If We Knew." 

Last Redoubt. 

Moilie, or Sadie? 



Noble Revenge. 

Not Dead, but Risen. 

" One of the Boys." 

Scene from *• London Assurane*.* 

Scene from " The Marble Heart." 

Sideways. 

Somebody's Mother. 

Something Spilt. 

Tact and Talent. 

The Amateur Spelling-Match. 

The Blue and Gray. 

The Bridge. 

The Canteen. 

The Dead Doll. 

The Flood and the Ark. 

The Honest Deacon. 

The Kaiser's Feast. 

The Little Shoes did it. 

The Scotchman at tiie Play. 

The Seven Ages. 

The Two Glasses. 

Tired Mothers. 

Uncle Remus's Revival Hymn. 

Whistling in Heaven. 

Why Biddy and Pat got Married. 



Contents of Reading-Club No. 6. 



A Disturbance in Church. 

A Disturbed Parent. 

A Christmas Carol. 

A Miracle. 

♦' A Sweeter Revenge." 

An Irish Love-Letter. 

Behind Time. 

Blind Ned. 

Cavalry Charge, The. 

Clerical Wit. 

" Conquered at Last." 

Count Eberhard's Last Fcay. 

Deaf and Dumb. 

Der Shoemaker's Poy. 

Down with the Heathen Chinee! 

Fight at Lookout. 

Fireman's Prayer. 

Greeley's Ride. 

Great Future. 

Immortality. 

Joe's Bespeak. 

John Chinaman's Protest. 

Jim Lane's Last Message. 

Mr. Coville ^.-oves Mathematics. 

HaUonallty. 



One Touch of Nature. 

Paddy O'Rafther. 

Putty and Varnish. 

Reserved Power. 

Ship-Boy's Letter. 

Sweet Singer of Michigan. 

Tacking Ship off Shore. 

Tammy's Prize. 

Talk about Shooting. 

Ten Years after. 

The Benediction. 

The Changed Cross. 

The Fan Drill. 

The Farmer's Story. 

The Fountain of Youth. 

The King's Kiss. 

The Palmer's Vision. 

The Sergeant of the Fiftieth. 

The Well -Digger. 

" Them Yankee Blankits." 

They Met. 

Virginius to the Roman Army. 

Warning to Woman. 

Weaving the Web. 

Widow Stebbins on Homoeopathy. 



Contents of Reaj[^ing-Club No. 7. 



A College Widow. 

A Free Seat. 

A Humorous Dare-Devil. 

All's Well that ends WelL 

A London Bee Story. 

A Modern Heroine. 

A Modern Sermon. 

A Reminiscence. 

A Royal Princess. 

Ave Maria. 

Civil War. 

Creeds of the Bells. 

" Dashing Rod," Trooper. 

Down Hill with the Brakes off. 

Drawing Water. 

Family Portraits. 

Fool's Prayer. 

Greatest Walk on Record. 

Hannibal at the A Itar. 

" He giveth His Beloved Sleep." 

Hohen linden. 

How Neighbor Wilkins got Reliftion. 

How Randa went over the Rive; « 

Irish Boy and Priest. 

Jimmy Butler and the Owl. 

Jim Wolfe and the Cats. 



l«8t Hymn. 

Left Alone at Eighty. 

Maud's Misery. 

National Game. 

New Dixie. 

On the Channel-Boat. 

Ori'>nt Yourself. 

Paddle Your Own Canoo. 

Patriot Spy. 

Pledfe to the Dead. 

Pomo'ogical Society. 

Rhym 's at Random. 

San Benito. 

St. Leoa's Toast. 

That C»\f. 

The Car^^enter'8 Wooing, and tte 

Sequel 
The Deac Student. 
The Ladie*. 
The Pin. 
The Retof* 
The Singei ' Alms. 
This Side and That. 
Two Fishers. 
Uncle Mellick dines with his Master. 



Contents of Reading-Clup ^(^ 8. 



A iJrick. 

A Colored Debating Society. 

Along the Line. 

A New Version of the Parable of the 

Virgins. 
An Evangel. 
Annie's Ticket. 
Apples — A Comedy. 
A Sermon for the Sisters. 
A Thirsty Boy. 
Aunt Phillis's Guest. 
Ballad of the Bell-Tower. 
•• Christianos ad Leones ! " 
City Man and Setting Hen. 
Daisy's Faith. 
De 'Sperience ob Reb'rend Quacko 

Strong. 
Defence of Lucknow. 
Dutch Security. 
Fast Mail. 
Father William. 
From One Standpoint. 
Girl of the Crisis. 
Grave of the Greyhound. 
Indian Warrior's Defence. 
Labor is Worship. 



Lanty Leary. 

Last of the Sarpints. 

Legend of the Whit^ Hand. 

London Zoological Gardens. 

Masked Batteries. 

Miss Edith's Modest R&y '4St. 

Mrs. Brown at the Play. 

Old Grimes. 

People will laugh. 

Peril of the Mines. 

Parody on «' Father William." 

Patter of the Shingle. 

Paul Clifford's Defence. 

Shiftless Neighbor Ball. 

Song of the Mystic. 

The Baron's Last Banquet. 

The Captive. 

The Dilemma. 

The Divorce Feast. 

"The Farmer and the Barrister* 

The Man with a Bear. 

The Story of the Tiles. 

The Outlaw's Yarn. 

The Rich Man and the Poor Mai 

Two Dreams. 

Yankee Courtship. 



THE GLOBE DRAMA. 



Prle«, %S Cents each. 



1. COUPON BONDS. A Drama in Four AcU. By J. 1. Troitbridok. 

Dramatised from the story of that name. Seven male, three female 

.naractere. Three scenes. Modern costumes. Easily produced. 
«. UNDER A VEIIi. A Comedietta in One Act. By Sir Randall Roberts, 

Bart. Two male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Double room. 

Time in representation, thirty minutes. 
.*». CL.ASS DAY. A Farce in One Act. By Dr. Francis A. Harris. Four 

male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Played at Harvard with 

great success. 

4. BETTER THAN GOLD. A Drama in Four Acts. By Gkorge M. 
Bakbr. Five male, four female characters. One interior; same for the 
four acts. 

6. MRS. WALTHROP'S BACHEIX)RS. A Comedy in Three Act« 
Translated and adapted from the German of Benedix. By Georok M. 
Baker and Willauu Small. (" Our Bachelors " and "Mrs. Walthrop's 
Boarders " were translated from the same.) 

6. OUR MUTUAIi FRIEND. A Comedy in Four Acts. Dramatised from 

the novel by Charles Dickens. By Harriet R. Shattuck. Four male, 
three female characters. 

7. REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. A Drama in Three Acts. By George M. 

# Baker. (For female characters only.) Sixteen characters. Scenes are : 
Act 1, kitchen. Act 2, woods. Act 3, parlor. "Written at the request of 
the " D.O.C, Cooking Club," of Chicago, who took "Among the Breakers " 
as a model. 

8. APPIiES. Comedy in One Act from Blackwood's Magazine. One male, two 

female characters. 

9. BABIE. Comedy in Three Acts. Translated from the French of Emile de 

Najac and Alfred Hennquin, .y F. E. Ohase. Six male, five female 
characters. 

10. A PERSONAIi MATTER. Comedy in One Act. By i\ E. Chask. Two 

male, and two female characters. 

11. COMRADES. A Drama in Three Acts. By George M. Bakkr. Four 

male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Costumefs raoderr 
Always successful. 

13. SNOW-BOUND. A Musical and Dramatic Entertainment. iJy George A 
Baker. For three male and one female characters; requires some scenery, 
but can be easily produced. Introduces congs, recitations, and an original 
Burlesque, "Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene." Time, two hours. 

13. BON-BONS. A Musical and Dramatic Entertainment. By George M. 

Baker. For four performers : three male, one female. Requires little 
scenery; introduces songs, recitations, and an original Burlesque, "The 
Paint King." Time in representation, two hours. 

14. PAST REDEMPTION. A New Temperance Drama in Four Acts. By 

George M. Baker. Nine male, and four female characters, anJ vet- 
numeraries. Scenery : three interiors, one exterior. 

15. NEVADA ; or, The Lost Mine. Drama, in Three Acts. By Georo^* ^ , 

Baker. Eight male, three female characters. Scenery,, exterior and in- 
^ terior of a Miner's Cabin in Nevada. Time, about two hours. 

16. POISON. A Farce, as acted by the Hasty i'udding Club of Harvard College 

with great success. Four male, three female characters. Time, thirty 
minutes. 

17. THE COOL COLLEGIANS. Comedy iu Two .(ictB, by Miles Medic; 

three wale and four female characters. 

Price, 15 Cents. 

18. LORDf; OF CREATION. A Comedy in Three Acts. By Ella Cheever 

Thayer. Five male and five female characters. Scenes, interior. Price 15c. 

19. MATCHMAKERS. A Comedietta iu One Act. Two male and two female 

characters. Price, IScts. ^ „ „ ^ 

«0. A HE GREAT UMBRELLA CASE; A Mock Trial. ByF. E. Chasx. 
Fifth Edition just ready. Price, 15cts. 

-% 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 10 Milk Street, Boston. 



LIBKHKT ur v*UPioi\too 




..^»^^« di.^A« vr*Jvrw*ro. Drama in two 

acts. 7 males, 4 females. 
AMONG THE BREAKERS. Drama in 

two acts. 6 males, 4 females. 
BETTER THAN GOLD. Drama in four 

acts. 5 males, 4 females. 25 CentS. 

BON-BONS. Musical entertainment. 3 males, 

I female. 25 CentS. 

BOSTON DIP, THE. Comedietta in one 

act. 4 males, 3 females. 
BREAD ON THE WATERS. Drama in 

two acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
CAPULETTA. Burlesque in two parts. 3 

males, i female. 

CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce 

in one act. 8 females. 

CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en- 
tertainment from Dickens. Many char. 

CLOSE SHAVE, A. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COALS OF FIRE. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COMRADES. Drama in three acts. 4 males, 

3 females. 25 CentS. 
DOWN BY THE SEA. Drama in two 

acts. 6 males, 3 females. 
DROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 

4 males, 2 females. 

DUCHESS OF DUBLIN, THE. Farce in 

one act. 6 males, 4 females. 
ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. Drama in 

three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 

FAIRY OF THE FOUNTAIN, THE. 

Play for children in two acts. 10 char. 25c. 

FLOWER OF . THE FAMILY, THE. 

Comedy-drama in three acts. 5 males, 3 fem. 
FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three 

acts. 7 males, 3 females. 25 CentS. 

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. Farce in 

one act. 8 males. 

GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce 

in one act. 12 males. 
GREAT ELIXIR, THE. Farce in one act. 
o males. 

GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 females. 
GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one 
act. 7 females. 

HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 males. 
HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one 

act. 5 males. 
LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts 

5 males, 3 females. 

LIGHTHEART'S PILGRIMAGE. AUe- 

gory for schools. 8 females and chorus. 
LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
LITTLE MORE CIDER, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 mrdes, 3 females. 
LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one 

act 5 females. 

MAN WITH THE DEMIJOHN, THE. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
NEVER SAY DIE. Farce in one act. 3 

males, 3 females. 
NEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 

females. 25 CentS. 



M. BAKER'S PLAYS. 

^ients, unless otherwise stated. 



NEW BROOM SWEEPS CLEAN, A. 

Farce in one act. 6 males. 
NO CURE, NO PAY. Farce in one act. 7 

females. 
ONCE ON A TIME. Drama in two acts. 

4 males, 2 females. 

ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Drama 

in two acts. 8 males, 3 females. 
ORIGINAL IDEA, AN. Dialogue for a 

lady and gentleman. 
OUR FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6 males, 

5 females. 

PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce 

in one act. 7 males, 3 females. 

PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four 
acts, q males, 4 females. 25 CentS. 

PEDLAR OF VERYNICE, THE. Bur- 
lesque. 7 males. 

PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one 
act. 6 females. 

PUBLIC BENEFACTOR, A. Farce in 
one act. 6 males. 

REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three 
acts. 16 females. 25 COIltS. 

RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 

6 females. 

REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE. Mu- 
sical allegory. 9 females. 

RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 
males. 

SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS. Christmas 
tree entertainment. Many char. 

SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle- 
gory. I male, 4 females. 

SEA OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one 
act. 8 males. 

SEEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- 
ance farce. 5 males, 2 females. 

SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain- 
ment. 7 males, 4 females. 

SHALL OUR MOTHERS V0TE1 Hu- 

morous debate for 11 boys. 

SNOW BOUND. Musical and dramatic en- 
tertainment. 3 males, i fomale. 25 CentS. 

STAND BY THE FLAG. Drama in one 
act. 5 males. 

SILVIA'S SOLDIER. Drama in two acts. 
3 males, 2 females. 

TEMPTER, THE. Drama in one act. 3 
males, i female. 

TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce in 

one act. 7 males. 
THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one 

act. 6 males. 

THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH- 

mentS. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 fem. 

THORN AMONG THE ROSES, A. Com- 
edy in one act. 2 males, 8 females. 

TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. 
Many char. 25 CentS. 

TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue 

for 2 males, introducing songs and recitations. 

TOURNAMENT OF IDYL WENT, THE. 

Allegory for 13 females. 
VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 

t6 females. 
USING THE WEED. Farce in one act. 

7 females. 

WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce in 

one act. 4 males. 
WAR OF THE ROSES. Allegory for 8 

females. 

WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Farce in 
one scene. 4 males, 2 females. 



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